


Love's Cycle

by kafreses



Series: Love's Cycle [1]
Category: Glee, klaine - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-05-27 00:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 44
Words: 149,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6261931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kafreses/pseuds/kafreses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two boys meet on the stairs and a cascade of emotions ensue. Blaine remembers their love, the tenderness and the fights. Life with Kurt has not always been easy but neither is true love. Now, at the end of it all, he begins to realize the depth of what they have shared and perhaps a little bit more.</p><p>I've done a little updating to this in preparation for Part 2. Minor fixes and maybe paragraph or two here and there. Nothing huge. </p><p> <br/>Please note: Love Cycles 2 literally splits chapter 11 in two. I have inserted a marker in chapter 11 to note where the split will occur.   </p><p>When I originally wrote Love Cycles, I thought the TV story covered off the story well. However, when reading my work and watching Glee again, there is more I must say about the events following Blaine and Kurt's break up, through to their marriage and to the birth of their children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wonders of Life

At the end of it all, Blaine fondly recounts the milestones of his life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am making a small change. The reason why will become evident eventually. Cheers and enjoy reading. Again, thank you to the producers, directors, the wonderful cast and crew of Glee for giving us such an amazing story. Oh, and thanks to CMB, whoever you are, for you wonderful artistry.


	2. Wonders of Life

“I honestly thought I would never find real love,” Blaine choked back tears.

A shaky sigh escapes his lips. Closing his eyes he feels a sharp pain in his chest. Holding Kurt’s hand in his, his thumb gently rotating across skin. Seconds earlier he checked, no pulse. Warm skin soothed him. Suddenly he smiled. An odd sensation swelled within his heart pushing the shock away. It reminded him of all they had, all they shared and all his hopes.

He sat for a long moment with his lips pressed to Kurt’s hand. Wrinkled with age, he felt only smoothness. Kurt aged well. Blaine, on the other hand, felt his age as he leaned into the hand gently kissing it. 

Slowly opening his eyes, Blaine looked up. Kurt looked as if he slept. His head slumped to one side against the pillow pushed up against the high arm of plush couch. He wore a heavy blue and red sweater. Blaine gave it to him for Christmas three decades ago. Kurt loved it. It kept him warm when his arthritis flared.

Blaine leaned into the ruffled fabric breathing deeply. It smelled so like Kurt with a hint of cologne. Age had not changed him much, at least his mannerisms. The two aged gracefully together but Kurt kept a youthfulness that made Blaine jealous at times. 

Reaching out, Blaine stroked Kurt’s hair. No longer full and thick, however, it all belonged to him. Blaine lost most of his years ago. Twisting it between his fingers, a tear rolled down Blaine’s cheek. He loved that hair, He loved Kurt with all his heart. Their life together had been full but not without complications. The turbulence of youth, absurd longing, raging hormones and blatant uncertainty. Time tempered all making the highs not so high and the lows, not so devastating. Two break ups and an almost divorce marked the path over the decades. 

Weary eyes glanced about. The New York apartment they once owned no longer existed. A new, modern one hundred and fifty story high rise took up the entire block. For nearly twenty years they dwelt together in a lovely two bedroom flat in a home for retired Broadway stars a few blocks from the venerable Lincoln Center. Kurt loved it. The memories it brought back. Blaine lovingly endured. He missed their old apartment but family and failing health demanded compromise. Arthritis made it hard for Kurt to walk long distances. Well, he would not be walking any more. They would carry him to his final resting place.

Five Tony Awards, two Oscars, seven Golden Globes and three Emmy Awards sat in a place of honor on a shelf beside the gas fireplace. The baby grand piano in the corner looked over sized in the room. Blaine still played, though painfully slow. He composed his last song nine years ago. It won him his third Tony. That marked his last public appearance. 

A tiny object caught Blaine’s attention. Resting between two awards sat a simple ring. He smiled. Made of bubble gum wrappers with a red and white bowtie, he had given it to Kurt just before their first Christmas. With great fondness he remembered his promises and the fact he had kept them even in their darkest hour.

Seventy six years of marriage sat all around. Pictures of them in their youth, mementos from their days in the Glee Club, lifelong friends from school and other important people in their lives dotted the walls. The space on top of the piano held the pictures of their family arranged by marriage. Only yesterday Mary came to visit. Their granddaughter lived in New York with her husband. The twins, carried by Rachel five years after Blaine and Kurt’s surprise wedding, Katherine and Alexander, lived on opposite sides of the pond. Katherine married a British stage actor and lived in London. Alexander retired into Florida with his husband. Reunited ten year ago at Rachel’s funeral, they now grew closer.

Mary visited at least three times a week. A highlight of their long days, Blaine and Kurt enjoyed the time she spent with their grandchildren. Kurt would be cold by the time her key slipped into the door. Life may have departed the man he loved but Blaine wanted this. Kurt had always been the love of his life. The thought healed a bleeding heart.

The rest of the family had scattered across the United States and Canada. Thirteen great grandchildren and a soon to be great-great-grandchild rounded out the Hummel/Anderson clan. Next to Kurt, family meant everything to Blaine. At this moment he knew his heart should be breaking, but it held amazingly fast. He found solace in the odd silence. The entertainment system timed out a while ago during one of Blaine’s frequent naps. A tug from Kurt woke him. Their eyes met. Bright blue eyes stared into hazel. Love shimmered there. Then, like a light bulb the luster faded for the last time. 

Rolling his head toward his love, Blaine let out a long breath. A finger traced a soft line down Kurt’s still face. He felt moisture beneath the eye. Hesitation gripped him and then he pressed the digit into the wetness. Pulling the finger to his lips, Blaine kissed it. He tasted salt. 

A heavy tear trickled from Blaine’s eye. Even at the end, Kurt could find the time to shed a tear for their love. The man cried at the drop of a hat. Flowers brought a sudden onslaught. A sad movie created tidal waves. He wildly wept at Rachel’s memorial as he gave the elegy. At times it irritated Blaine but then he loved the man and seemingly endless list of quirks. When they first met, Kurt kept his emotions in check. His first two years in New York taught him so much about himself and the man he loved. Blaine had no issues showing affection or love. Kurt took a while to break out of his shell. The day the damn finally broke, Blaine had been more than pleasantly surprised.

Looking at his finger, Blaine sat further back into the thick pillow behind him. The blanket over his legs kept him warm. Kurt made it for him over forty years ago. Like the sweater, it smelt like the man he loved with all his heart. On many a cold night, they cuddled up on the couch under it gently fondling one another watching a sappy movie. 

Longing touched his heart. Blaine had always thought he would be first. For the most part, Kurt’s health held. Blaine had suffered through the ravages of cancer. Live in their seventies had been hard. Blaine lived in and out of hospitals undergoing treatments. Kurt’s joints ceased up on him in their sixties. It ended his dancing career. The twins came to visit during the worst of it bringing their families. To Blaine, having his family around pulled him through the hardest strokes. Kurt had always been his rock, but seeing his grandchildren brought new hope.

Life improved as the decades of their lives moved to its apex. Blaine’s health returned to him, the brutal regiment of treatments having beaten death. The love of their youth made a comeback. Kurt had almost lost Blaine. It shook both of them to the core. Only two days ago, they enjoyed the best old person’s sex.

A smile pulled the wrinkles of Blaine’s face. At one point he wondered if they would ever make it this far. Kurt has said he would die speaking about his first love. Well, it almost came to pass. They watched the rerun of the latest Tony awards. Kurt commented about what people wore and how much fashion had changed over the years. Gradually they both drifted off to sleep with their hand interlocked all those years ago in high school. What a wonderful thing.

Through the window, Blaine could see the theater district. The region looked as it had sixty years before. Declared a heritage site, the lovers had spent most of their lives there. They watched Rachel and Sam perform together under the tutelage of Rachel’s husband. Sam never married and worked as a music teacher of three decades winning a dozen national championships. He however had several children by several women. That year Kurt and Blaine headlined the second inauguration of Hillary Clinton and twelve years later the nation’s first gay president. They went to London to sing back up when Rachel sang for the King William and Queen Katherine. 

He loved this part of New York. They both did. It never seemed to change unlike the massive city of twenty million around them. New York modernized like every city in the world as it adapted to an altered climate. So much had changed. A colony on the moon, people living on Mars and the mining of the asteroid belt. Their little part of the world seemed untouched. People still flocked to live theater. Everyone thought holographic entertainment would kill it. Blaine and Kurt had a big part in its revival gaining them a place in the hall of fame and the Presidential Medal of Freedom. 

Now, as he stared at the love of his life, Blaine remember single event that shaped his life forever. While Dalton no longer existed, there, one fateful day, he saw a young, somewhat nerdy teenager. The poor fellow looked so out of place in his dark blazer and knee length shorts. Even though emotion tugged him toward the Gap and a handsome, but older assistant manager, without hesitation he took a soft hand in his. Back then, he did not understand what he now took for granted. Fate and destiny struck. 

The Warblers sang. For Blaine it became a happy blur. How he missed those days. He recalled the words belting from his throat and how it meant so much more. As always Blaine innocently flirty with his fellow Warblers. They accepted his style and the fact it helped bring out his real talent. All the while his eyes continually feel upon the new kid. His soul knew what his body did not.


	3. The Right Hand

Fingers pressed against fingers. Blaine refused to release the man he loved for so many decades. The fears of youth no longer pulled at him. The realization of age rested upon his shoulders. Together they lived long, happy lives regardless of the ebbs and sways of the modern world. Under employment, fighting with agents and producers and almost going broke setting up their own Broadway production pulled them thin. If he had a choice, Blaine would trade none of it. Foolish people believed life would be easy.

Slowly closing his eyes, Blaine realized the other hand had been in his most of his life. On the beach, in a taxi, jaunts on the subway, sleeping on planes or just cuddled up on the couch reading. In this way they never seemed to be apart. Strangely, Kurt brought his lover a pillow with an arm attached to it. At first Blaine thought is weird. A year later, when Kurt spent all those months in Hollywood, it soothed. Blaine could not leave for any length of time. He sang his heart out on Broadway.

The man’s palm felt like it always had—soft. Kurt did not have callused hands. Blaine did what Kurt called the dirty work. As a loving husband, who rolled his eyes when Kurt bitched about a speck of dirt on his outfit, all the hammering, tightening of screws and tuning pianos fell to him. Cooking landed squarely on Kurt’s shoulders. Other chores they split down the middle including the late night feeding of the fidgety twins. Poor Rachel, all the pumping to keep those two happy. A delivery service made the trip every second day. On weekends, husband and mother visited. The three men soon got accustomed to Rachel pressing breast milk during a movie. When her own children arrived the odd ritual continued unabated. Later in life, not so subtle jokes lightened late dinners.

Children made life exciting for the star struck lovers. Yes, they argued but their emotions blossomed in easy stages as they surmounted each little travesty. The twins had their own schedule which mostly conflicted. Hell, best described the first few months. Teething proved to be a pain but neither man would have passed up the aggravating milestone. It had been said, love existed within a blanket best described as deaf, dumb and blind. In the early morning hours, deaf played no role.

In the bedroom, they shared no exclusive style. Blaine loved the sensation of Kurt deep inside him. Kurt wallowed within similar endeavors. When they were young, it seemed they forever found odd locations or positions. As the years stretched on, prolific animalistic sex morphed into something loving and comfortable. When the twins first passed through their door, they feared their sex life had died forever. On the contrary, they found long moments of staying north of the equator outrageously stimulating. On those rare nights when the twins actually slept, a simple kiss exploded into full-fledged, all out, dirty intercourse. The next day would be long but, damn, well worth it.

As age moved along, Blaine and Kurt reminisced about the early days of lulling the twins to sleep. Cuddling on the couch of their modest, but tiny apartment, each held a child. Alex usually ended up with Blaine, Kate with Kurt. It seemed only natural. Blaine’s sperm mixed with Rachel’s egg begot a boy. Kurt, a girl. It made an odd mix. Twins through the mother but separate siblings by their fathers. In the end Rachel told the boys never again. Carrying twins while singing on Broadway stretched their friendship. 

At night, when the twins finally drifted off, the lovers spoke silently, Kurt liked to speak about what may be. Blaine looked to the past for guidance. Their ups and downs taught them much. Children brought it all into focus. No longer sixteen, they felt better prepared. 

Looking back to the day when Blaine first saw Kurt, it felt much like one of those wild nights when the twins safely snoozed. Almost eighty years ago, Blaine found it hard to sleep. Raging stiffness of another kind kept him up. Relieving himself came surprising easy. He imagined an older, well, early twenties, assistant manager. Physically, sated he stared at his right hand. Hours before he had taken strange man’s hand with it. It made for an awkward gate as he dragged the unsuspecting new kid, down the hall. Strangely, even gracelessly, he finished the dirty deed with his left.

Over the years, Kurt's left hand always fit into Blaine’s right. The touch of familiar skin spoke volumes. A moment ago the light of Kurt’s life extinguished. What else could Blaine consider as he moved in a world filled with both sorrow and enduring joy? He chose joy. Kurt would have it no other way. In response, the surviving spouse turned his hand right hand over. He lovingly held Kurt’s left. 

An old man laughed. The skin tingled the moment Kurt’s first touch. At first he thought it some allergic reaction to the cologne Kurt doused himself with. Now, as the curtain descended on the final act of a loving life, Blaine paused. With stark realization, he finally came to comprehend the truth of that simple act. On those very steps, his proposal said it all -- We met right here. I took this man’s hand and we ran down that hallway…and for those that know me, I’m not in the habit of taking people’s hands I’ve never met before...but I think that my soul knew something that my mind and body didn’t know yet. It knew that our hands were meant to hold each other fearlessly and forever which is why it’s never really felt like I‘ve been getting to know you. It’s always felt like I was remembering you from something. As if every lifetime you and I have lived, we’re chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love all over again for eternity. And I just feel so lucky to have found you so soon in this life time. All I want to do, all I’ve ever wanted to do is to spend my life loving you. 

All thought stopped. Sobs rocked Blaine body as he squeezed Kurt’s lifeless hand tighter. Then, suddenly, and an old man smiled. Kurt left Dalton half an hour after his introduction to the Warblers. Then and now, Blaine felt amazingly content. 

Dalton had been there forever. At least it felt that way. The old buildings has been updated over the years but the old world charm lingered. The grounds ranging around it encompassing a sports field, tennis and basketball courts and gardens. A younger version of Blaine found himself in the gardens with an armful of books. A particularly heavy book rested between this thighs. Tired eyes stared at the words over and over again. The same page never seemed to end. The mind fixated on the weird dream that invaded his sleep the night before. Images of men on horseback charging across a grassy field and over leafy barriers flashed within what he considered normal. Someone fell into the mud. Women in high collars and long dressed gasped while stiff backed footmen moved here and there carrying silver trays. A large building grew up over the trees. A flag with a coats-of-arms wrestled with the wind. Lord so-in-so lived there.

When he woke, his heart pounded in his chest. Lying there for the longest time, the ticking of the clock became an irritating nuisance. His dreams rarely bothered him. This one had a disturbing edge. 

Classes came and went. The Warblers did not disrupt the school’s well-oiled schedule. Everything went on as it should or did it? Twice that day he found himself at the bottom of the stairs for no apparent reason. The third time he aimlessly passed along the same hall, frustration kicked in. 

In two realities, Blaine shook his head. In one he stared at his hand and in the other he glanced up into the blue sky. Warbler practice in three hours. No class in-between. He needed to clear his head. Throwing the strap of his bag over his shoulder, Blaine absently made his way through Dalton’s gates. The noise of residential streets grew into the buzz of a commercial boulevard. His feet carried him automatically toward a window of a clothing store. A smile pulled at his lips. Long wavy hair captured the imagination. In his mind’s eye, this man offered everything Blaine wanted. Gorgeous, tall and employed, thoughts of marriage danced in his head. The courage to say hello languished somewhere in the pit of his stomach. 

The honking of a car scared him from his stupor. Spinning around, he quickly glanced at his watch. A loud sigh escaped his lips. One and half hours until practice. Where had the time gone? What had he been thinking of? His mind had gone utterly blank. For some reason he looked down at his right hand. 

The stomach growled as he looked through the window once more. The gorgeous man had vanished. Pouting, Blaine glanced about. The Limabean resided in the middle of the next block. The lineup lasted forever. Finally, he held a medium drip and a large sugar cookie. He loved sugar. 

A tearful Blaine grinned. A couple of years later, such treats became an unrecognized side effect of larger concerns. Now, that he had time to think about it, his mind always went to sweets when had had issues with Kurt. Back then, sticking a second chewy cookie in his month ran into an interruption. Trent stood behind him with a large coffee in hand. His fellow Warbler shyly smiled.

Startled, Blaine instinctively said, “Please join me.”

Pulling out a chair, the heavy set Trent sat. Leaning back, he sipped his beverage and then innocently said, “Plans for the weekend?”

“Ah, nothing really. Family stuff,” Blaine absently replied.

“Oh?” Trent glanced away and then back. “Is your father still…”

Blaine let it hang for a moment and then he sighed. “I don’t think much will change.”

“He was a little rough on you the last…” Trent chugged on his coffee.

Smiling, Blaine said, “It’s alright Trent. Dad…well…he’s dad. I don’t think he’ll ever accept.”

“We do.”

“The Warblers have been my rock.”

“Blaine...oh…let’s drop it.”

“Yeah.”

Trent made a face. “I hope I haven’t said anything wrong. You look distracted.”

“No, no,” Blaine shook the cobwebs out of his head. “Contemplating Friday's history test.”

“Oh?”

“History is not my strong point.”

“I hate calculus.”

Blaine laughed. Years later, he still disliked history. Kurt loved it as long as it involved fashion. New York fashion week a constant of their lives.

Loud chatter announced the arrival of members of the football team. Blaine cringed. Regardless of policy, some of them has strong views they Blaine did not agree with. While they did not voice themselves on school grounds, in other venues the junior Warbler experienced stinging barbs.

Grinning, Trent glanced at Blaine. The Warblers watched out for him. In a soft voice he said, “You ready for rehearsal?”

Blaine’s face brightened. “I’m always ready. We’re ready.”

Sipping his coffee Trent nodded. “You sound great, as usual.”

“Thanks” Blaine almost blushed. Yes, he had a stunning voice. Everyone told him that. Inside, it meant little.

Trent’s brow furrowed. “That was an odd impromptu yesterday.”

“What do you mean?” Blaine blankly asked.

“That Kurt kid. I never seen him before. Dan told me there have been no new enrollments since the beginning of the semester.”

One of Blaine’s bushy eyebrows shot up.

Trent went on. “Just seemed peculiar to me.”

“Now that I think about it, it did.” Young Blaine nodded. Holding the still hand of his lover, old Blaine recognized how true that statement turned out to be.

Trent shrugged.

“Yeah.” Blaine moaned. The word rolled off out of his mouth as if they had been spoken in a dream. He blinked.

“My, that history exam must really be getting to you,” Trent stated.

“Yes….err…no.” Blaine found solace sipping his coffee. A wave of uncertainty washed through him.

Trent blurted out, “What?”

Blaine sucked in a heavy breath. His eyes became distant. “I think I better talk to David and Wes.”

“Why?”

“Just a feeling.”

Tracking down the two Warblers took little effort. The three usually had a brief meeting following each practice. A soft discomfort within Blaine’s chest made him hesitate. Wes and David did not seem to notice. They sat behind the table looking at their notes. Sitting at the end of one couch, Blaine stared at a pile of sheet music. Notes rolled along bars. Words scrawled beneath alter lyrics. His eyes slowly went to the palm of his right hand. 

“I think we’re ready,” Wes commented as he looking up. 

Caught by surprise, Blaine grinned. “We…sound good.”

“Ok, Blaine, what?” David asked. “You’re off today.”

“The opposition,” Blaine whispered. Where did that come from?

David smiled. “The competition list has not been posted.”

“There’s really little to worry about,” Wes said.

“If we go by last year, we’re certain winners,” David added.

Wes gave David a look. “I’ve been hearing stuff about these New Directions.”

Nodding, David said, “Rachel. She’s got talent,”

Wes added, “I’ve seen videos of her singing on YouTube.”

Making a face, Blaine said, “Perhaps they’re a worried.”

Wes and David exchanged looks. Wes asked, ‘What do you mean?”

“You saw that new kid.” Blaine’s chest tighten.

“He did seem a bit out of place,” David commented.

“Didn’t see him today,” Wes stated. 

Shuddering, Blaine could not shake an odd sensation.

The others noticed. David suddenly speculated, “If the New Directions are resorting to spying….”

Blaine cut David off. “Let me handle this.”

The two senior Warblers gazed at Blaine for a long second. They slowly nodded.

“What have I gotten myself into,” Blaine said to himself as he walked inattentively across the lawn toward the gardens. A hand reached onto his blazer pocket where his fingers found a scrap of paper. He asked Kurt for his number. He felt sick. 

His feet took him in wide circles for almost half an hour. Stopping under a wide tree, he glanced up at the foliage. The sight of it settled his nerves. Why did he struggle with something so simple? Suck it up.

His fingers trembled as they touched the numbers. The phone clicked followed by a dreadful ringing sound. Seconds later and high pitched voiced said hello. 

“Hi Kurt, this is Blaine?” He forced the words out.

“Blaine?” The single work sounded confused and then excited.

Pulling in a deep breath Blaine asked, “Are you free tomorrow.”

The pause that followed caused Blaine a small amount of pain. Relief came when Kurt replied, “I have a spare block at the end of the day.”

“Why don’t you come by Dalton?”

“Ok, why?”

“We can talk over a latte.”

“Ok, I can be there about two thirty.”

“Good.”

“See you tomorrow.” Click.

Leaning against the tree, Blaine’s heart pounded against his ribs. His chin suddenly dropped. The two boys shared something that should have been obvious from the start.


	4. The Other Right Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING - this chapter involves sexual acts.

A half cut apple sat on a plate beside Kurt on a low table. A knife rested on a plate next to a glass of milk. Ten minutes ago, the two of them had been talking about their grandchildren. Now, Blaine stared at the browning flesh with blurry eyes. Private reflections distilled into curious thoughts. They could still afford apples. Those living in the seeder side of New York barely knew what an apple tasted like. Changes in climate shifted world agriculture production. Things tipped quicker than expected and then the balance swung back just as fast. A new reality faced the human race. For many years some things fell into the category of rationing. Food supply chains stretched with the new reality. Over the past twenty five years inflationary normalcy returned. 

A long time ago things seemed so much simpler. The healthy abundance of the world shone brightly on store shelves and the dinner tables of America. Meat, while expensive for the times, could be easily had. Fresh fruits and vegetables bounced around in the back of trucks all over the country. A time of plenty, at ten Blaine could not imagine what the middle of the century would bring. The concerns of a boy radiated about the differences he sensed in himself. Friends noticed the mounds sprouting beneath sweaters. Voices changed. Talks shifted from playing hide and seek to what Susy found interesting. At that age, no kid understood the things the body did. In his innocence, Blaine never noticed the inconsistencies within himself. Looking at the boys seemed normal. When he graduated into his freshmen year, he discovered something to the contrary. It started with his shoulder being thrust into a locker as the hall bully stomped by. He did not understand why some called him a British cigarette—fag. 

The ensuing struggled took months to work through. Afraid to speak to anyone, Blaine sunk into himself. No one seemed to notice his suffering as adverse conditions mounted. 

Half way through his thirteenth year, his father gave him a hand me down laptop. Free of the firewall restrictions of school computers, Blaine discovered the phenomena called Google. It did not take him long to get confused. Why were the bullies calling him a cigarette? The meaning of homosexual shocked him. The trouble came when he tried to apply the two meanings. The outcome stung. Wikipedia explained things with surprising detail. Inevitably, searching led the boy to venues he had not expected. Windows popped up with the strangest things. Men and women did that? Men did that with themselves? The whole thing terrified him but as the months dragged from thirteen to fourteen, he found himself leaking in curious ways. Over time, those sites gave him insight his parents avoided. One thing led to another. 

Self-service became a frequent activity. Watching other do that thing, relieved pressures. Afraid of a single word, Blaine tried to watch the things men and women did. It usually left him limp. Man on man, well, excited barely described it. His hard member became his new best friend. Morning, noon and night he found himself fondling it. Through self-experimentation he discovered the person he would come to be. Pride in himself did not translate into acceptance. Terror stalked the halls of his school. 

His parents must have discovered something. One night, at dinner, Blaine found himself uncomfortably picked at his potatoes. As usual, Daniel kept his nose hidden behind a marketing journal. It would have been a typical dinner if not for his mom’s constant stare. While her son helped with the dishes and after his dad retreated to his recliner, mom broached a sensitive subject. Blaine wildly blushed as she spoke in low tones. The increase in laundry loudly spoke of his frequent moments of ecstasy.

Fearful, Blaine listened. To his surprise his mother did not appear to be upset. Sipping on her second glass of wine, she explained to her shy son certain facts a boy of his age should know. He knew more. 

A couple of weeks later, after Daniel returned from an extended business trip, his father asked a surprising question of his son. “Blaine, tell me, how was school today?”

Blaine blinked. In his youth he did not understand where the question would end up. As he held onto his lover’s hand, Blaine had to laugh. Clumsy, best described his father when it came to family matters. He remembered shrinking back into the chair. What did his father what? Had he found something on his computer? 

“Chew, dear and then answer your father,” Pam acknowledged her son’s dismay.

Swallowing, Blaine sipped some water and then glanced at his father. His face remained hidden within a journal. Stumbling with what to say, the teenager said, “We had a fire drill today.”

“Interesting, dear,” Pam said as she picked up the plates. “Ice cream or pie?”

“Can I have both?” Blaine enthusiastically replied.

“Don’t spoil the boy,” Daniel injected without looking up. 

Pam smiled and retreated into the kitchen. 

“Fire drills are important, Blaine. They teach you responsibility. We must all be responsible,” Daniel said.

“Yes, dad.”

“What are they teaching you these days?”

Why did he care? He never took an interest before. Nevertheless, Blaine studiously responded, “We are learning about frogs in biology. Mr. Cummings says we will be cutting one open next week. It’s kind of gross.”

“Getting your hands dirty will make you a man.” A page turned. “You still in choir?”

Blaine smiled. “Yup.”

“Boys, should play football.”

“I like math, dad.”

“Are you still a spare on the baseball team?”

Blaine frowned. “The couch thinks I am too small.”

“You need to eat more.” Another page turned. “That friend of yours, Phillip, isn’t he on the football team?”

“Yes.” The boy shrugged. Old Blaine smiled. He followed football all his life. Kurt did not like it all that much other than the huddles and tight rears.

“Maybe he can get you working with some weights. Music is for wimps.”

“Daniel,” Pam complained from the other room.

Blaine blinked. He challenged his father. “Music if fun.”

The journal fell against the table top. “Blaine, you need to toughen up. I know what is happening at school.”

The boy’s face reddened. He trembled.

“Is it true you’re being bullied?” Daniel stared at his son.

Swallowing, Blaine stared at his father. 

Shaking his head, Daniel added, “Your principal phoned me. She said you complained to her.”

“Yes,” Blaine barely got the word out. What had Mrs. Belton told her father? 

The journal went back up and the conversation faded. Mom brought him a plate of homemade apple pie with a huge helping of vanilla ice cream. Taking his time devouring the delicious treat, Blaine wondered what his dad was up to. He found out two weeks later when Daniel suddenly announced his son would be transferred to a private school called Dalton. It had a good football team. He would later be disappointed to learn it had a championship glee club.

Three weeks after arriving at Dalton, Blaine discovered the real reason his father sent him there. A down turn at work meant he would be traveling more. It also forced his mother back into work full time. The fact Dalton had longer hours and a stricter curriculum complemented Daniel’s plans for his son. 

Blaine adjusted. Within days, he began to enjoy Dalton. He liked the uniforms and bullies did not patrol the halls looking for someone to stuff into lockers. Mrs. Dunby, who baby sat him since his fourth birthday, watched over him after school. Her husband had died two years after the Anderson’s moved into the neighborhood. A former music teacher, the piano against the wall came to life for a couple of hours every day. Over the years, and with loving care, she taught the young boy a new art.

Blaine always knocked before the walked through the back door. After all being polite garnered politeness. The smell of freshly baked bread assaulted the senses. Typical, Mrs. Dunby puttered about the kitchen. The crusty end of a loaf sat on a plate smothered in butter. Blaine need not ask. She willingly offered. Chowing down it did not take long for Blaine to figure out his elderly friend looked out of sorts. 

“Can I help, Mrs. Dunby?” Blaine politely asked. Sometimes she needed help to the couch.

“It’s alright dear, I’m just tired. Your mom will be home soon, why don’t you run on home,” the elderly woman suggested.

“You sure?”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’ll be around tomorrow to cut the lawn.”

“Thank you, dear.” 

Blaine reached for his pack. Sadly, Mrs. Dunby passed away three weeks later. 

Standing in a silent back porch, Blaine took his shoes off and placed them in the usual place. What to do? Television? No. Music? Yes. Dalton provided Blaine with a new appreciation for different styles. After auditioning for the Warblers, he quickly learned to enjoy Broadway show tunes. His new friends introduced him to a whole new world of musical websites. When alone, he often belted out Barbara and Liza. 

So up the stairs he trundled. His room lay at the end of the hall next to the bathroom. Flying onto the bed, he yanked the laptop from under the nightstand. Flipping the top, he confirmed the plug stuck into the wall and hit the switch. Windows XP chugged to life.

A few moments later, music blasted through the attached speakers. The Metropolitan rebroadcasted Le Les Misérables. Blaine joined in as the rhythm took over. His voice echoed through the empty house as if he stood on a stage. In the middle of I Dream the Dream, he felt something stir. Thinking nothing of it, his fingers pressed under his pants. Grasping his shaft, a wave a pleasure washed through him. A short time later a naughty film covered the music site. Young, agile, eastern European boys played with themselves. A hard cock thrust deep into a hairless ass. Pushing his pants down, Blaine gripped the fullness of his manhood in both hands. Stroking, tickling and pulling, he jumped with the suddenness of a deep voice from the door. His father stood there with a puzzled look on his face. He stared at two young man having intercourse. His eyes slowly hardened.

Instant deflation resulted. Hauling up his underpants’ Blaine’s chest felt like it would explode. The boy’s face flashed red as the grunting of two boys reaching climax mixed into a Broadway show tune. 

His father stood there for the longest time. Blaine sank deeper into the bed. With a huff, Daniel strode over to the bed scooped the laptop up ripping the cord from the wall.

Horrified, Blaine stared.

Storming toward the door, Daniel suddenly stopped. Without looking back, he angrily called to his son, “Pull your pants on and come downstairs.”

Deep, menacing silence left Blaine dumbstruck. Embarrassed, mortified, he lay there for the longest time with his heart pounded in his chest. His mind flashed with the most horrible things. Stories of hateful parents filled the internet. 

Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, Blaine swallowed. Dad would be in the kitchen. Padding down the hall, his footsteps failed. Raised voiced carried down the corridor. His parents fought. 

“Blaine, get in here!” Daniel called down the hall. He could see his son from the breakfast table.

Blaine obeyed and advanced to the door where he waited. Sweat ran down his back. Sitting at the breakfast table, his father pointed a finger at mother. Rage filled his face. Tears streaked her cheeks.

Turning in his chair, Daniel glared at his son. Pursing his lips, he commanded, “Have a seat, young man.”

Blaine hesitated. 

“Well?” Anger laced Daniel’s deep voice. His father’s tone went beyond the usual, deep throated garble. 

Sheepishly, Blaine sat in his spot across the table. Mother and father stared at him. Pam’s face overflowed with compassion as a tear rolled down her cheek. Slowly, she turned and retreated into the kitchen.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Blaine’s father demanded. He tried to control himself.

“What did I do?” Blaine countered in all innocence.

Turning the laptop around, his father pointed at the frozen scene. “What exactly is this?”

Flushed, Blaine’s heart crashed into his throat. He pushed himself further back in his chair.

Daniel‘s anger grew. “What the hell are you doing, boy?”

“Don’t speak to him like that,” Pam emotionally called from the kitchen.

“Shut up!” Daniel yelled back glaring at his son.

Something heavy hit the kitchen countertop.

“Do you know what this is? Who showed you this? A teacher?”

The answer did not come. How could it. No one showed him anything.

Slamming the laptop shut, Daniel leaned across the table. Glaring at his son, he roared, “You’re grounded until you tell me who showed you…this…shit and what you’re doing with it. No, TV. No, music. No computer or phone. The lawn needs cutting, leaves racking, windows washed and the gutters cleaned out. I will prepare a list of chores, young man and you will do everything on it.”

“Yes, dad.”

“Is that all you have to say, boy!”

Fearfully, Blaine shrunk down.

Daniel’s face hardened. Rising, he hovered over his son. “What are you…some fuck’n…faggot?”

A knife twisted in Blaine’s heart even as an old man squeezed Kurt’s lifeless hand. His father would never understood. In Years later Pam kicked him out. When he died, Blaine did not go to the funeral.

“Well?” he decreed. 

Again, no answer.

“Christ, my son is a god damned…faggot!” Daniel growled. Without warning, Daniel struck Blaine across the face.

Crashed to the floor, blood ran down Blaine’s lip. He cried.

Pam raced to the kitchen archway and suddenly stopped.

Towering over his son, Daniel barked. “Get out of my sight!” 

Scampering up the stairs Blaine threw himself on his bed sobbing. Pulling a pillow into his chest, he lay there trembling. A few minutes later he heard the front door slam. 

Sometime later, his mother walked into Blaine’s room with milk and a sandwich. Sitting on the side of the bed she put the plate down. She smelled like gin. Cradling her blubbering son, she softly said, “It is alright Blaine. I’ve always known you were different.”


	5. Vibrations

The phone skidded across the table. Blaine blinked. Kurt remained still beside him. Moving him now would only be done one way. The heat of a long life reflected against the flesh that pressed against flesh. What a wonderful man. What a wonderful life.

The buzzing continued. Looking to his right, Blaine glanced at the tiny thing. The change in cell phones mirrored the amazing changes in technology. You wore the device in the form of a bracelet or other piece of jeweler. Tiny holographic projectors cast text and images a few inches into the air. The identification flashing in the dim light belonged to Mary. The text below informed him she just left with her kids. An elderly man considered what this meant. His heart sank. Half an hour. That would be all the time he had left with his cherished Kurt. Logic said enough. His heart wanted it to go on forever until the bones turned to dust. He desired so much.

Tremors wiggled paper. It seemed to go on forever. Finally, young Blaine opened his eyes. Head resting on his pillow, his Warbler tie chocked him. Dad blasted him when he got home. Things spiraled as his parents argued. Inside, Blaine feared much of it had to do with him. Daniel fought the reality of his youngest child. The months following an unfortunate discovery rotated around unnerving silence and turned backs. Father barely recognized the boy. Pam defended her son’s rights, got his phone back and kept him in Dalton. The school proved good for her son. Daniel refused to pay. Pam did so out of her own wages. Tensions expanded.

The young man listened. Silence. The fighting must have ended. Blaine learned much about his mother. To his astonishment, she actually had a back bone and stood up to the man who believed he ruled the roost. As the weeks dragged on, dad grew more and more distant. He slept in the spare room every so often. Mother and son grew closer. She even came to watch him sing. The first time he saw her in the audience, Blaine almost fainted. His voice had carried him up the Warbler hierarchy. That day would be his first solo in front of an audience. While not a competition, the concert played an important role in Dalton’s semi-annual open house. Afterward, she took her son and some of his friends out for treats. That night mom and dad had a huge fight. Daniel vanished for a few days.

Closing his eyes, Blaine pulled at his tie. He hated what happened behind closed doors. Guilt filled him. It had all been his fault. If he had been like Cooper, they would all be happy. It took a while before he realized he had nothing to do with it. Once an asshole, always and asshole.

Again, the cell phone jumped. Blaine let out a sigh. Yesterday, he received seven texts from his father telling him to do this or to do that. These days they did not talk. He ordered.

By the time it buzzed three more times, ignoring it became hard. Finally, he boy rolled over and snatched up the phone. Swiping the display, his heart leapt. Eleven texts from Kurt. What the fuck! His fingers scrolled to the top of the list. He paused at the one from his mom.

Pam Anderson: Blaine, sing your heart out. Love mom.

Blaine smiled. The Warblers preformed in the first concert by invitation this morning. It came down to sizing up the opposition. The real stuff would start in a few weeks. The day had been so full he barely had time to check his phone.

The finger moved. Two from dad. Delete and delete.

First message from Kurt: Courage. :):):) K

Blaine smiled. Kurt left the meeting with Wes and David the other day upset. Blaine chased him down as Kurt marched to the bus stop. In the end it worked out well. Kurt texted him later that night to say thanks.

Second message: Blaine, you made my day. K

Third message: How did your invitation go? K

Fourth message: Blaine?

Fifth message: You must have killed them. The blogs have lit up. :):):) K

The first five had been spread over the entire day. The following six all came within the last ten minutes. Blaine looked at his watch. His mom would be home soon.

Sixth message: Blaine?

Seventh message: Blaine, you there…Blaine?

Eighth message. Five seconds after number seven: Gods, Blaine where are you!

Ten seconds later, number nine: He…

Message ten: Fuck, Blaine!

Seconds later, came number eleven: He…kissed me.

Blaine dropped the phone. It flopped to the floor. Fumbling over the side of the bed he grappled for the device. Juggling it, his swiped his thumb across it looking for his contact list. Text meant little. Words carried emotion. His mind flashed with images of a Neanderthal hovered over Kurt like a fly on a half-eaten banana. His heart flew into his throat.

Fingers slid down the glass plate. Kurt’s name rolled by. He doubled back and hit it. Pressing the phone to his ear right ear it rang. It seemed to ring for a long time. The answering service kicks in. “This is Kurt Hummel, I cannot take your call at this time. Please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Kurt…you...” The words must have carried through because he heard a sudden click followed by a heavy intake of air.

“Ahh…What…who…Blaine” the high pitched voice said into the phone. Surprised emotion filled his tone.

“Kurt…Kurt, you alright?” He fought to keep his sentiments in check.

“Thank god…Blaine…I…fuck…I don’t know.”

Blaine’s heart thumped against his ribs. “Kurt, calm down. Tell me what happened.”

“Karofsky kissed me.”

“What?”

“He kissed me.”

Blaine felt the emotion through the phone. “Kurt, tell me.”

The other boy cried. “He shoved me into a locker…”

“You alright?” Blaine’s chest tightened.

“No…yes…I don’t know. I chased him into the locker room and confronted him. He kissed me.”

As proud as Blaine felt, he blabbered, “Holy shit!”

“Blaine…” Kurt sobbed.

“Kurt, you want me to…no I can’t.” Blaine felt sick. His mind went to his father.

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice shook.

“Kurt, I’ll be at McKinley by eleven.”

“Yes…ah…that would...” Someone yelled from afar. “…Yes dad. Right away… Damn…Blaine, I have to go.”

“Courage, Kurt. I’ll meet you in the courtyard.”

Squeezing Kurt’s unmoving hand, old Blaine smiled. A tinge of pain pinched his chest. Karofsky terrified Kurt and the confrontation on the stairs went as expected. It resolved nothing. Blaine feared things might have been made worse.

Ten minutes of virtual silence later, the two boys sat in the corner of a small café two blocks from the school. Blaine leaned back with his legs crossed, his blazer undone and tie pulled down. Kurt’s elbow rested against the table top. His fist pressed into the cheek. The gel in Blaine’s hair held it looser than usual revealed a soft, wavy mess. Kurt’s mane remained perfect.

“You’re calm?” Blaine observed. He picked his coffee and sipped it. The salad in front of him had barely been touched.

Kurt drew in a deep breath and melted back into the chair. “I’m…far from calm. He could have…”

“He needs to get some help.” Blaine felt awkward. Passions ran this way and that. The look on Kurt’s face when he admitted that had been his first real kiss. How sweet but then, it somehow, made Blaine angry.

Staring across the table Kurt brightly smiled. “Blaine, thank you for having my back. You were brave to stand up to him.”

The pit of the Warbler’s stomach turned. “Anytime, Kurt.”

“Be honest with me Blaine, why did you help me?”

“Kurt, no one should go through what you have.”

“You told me you had been bullied.”

“Yes,” Blaine looked down and pushed a tomato to the edge of the plate. “Kurt, you cannot imagine the shit I went through. I had my own Neanderthal, Kurt. Some days my shoulders hurt more than I can describe. At least I had someone to share it with. You don’t.”

“I have you.”

Blaine hesitated. His cheeks flushed. “Yes you do, Kurt?”

Kurt grinned. “Thank you.”

A wave of relief passed through Blaine. Looking down at his right hand resting on his thigh, he turned it over. Lunch turned out better than he expected. The conversation rolled away from the events of the day. Fashion came into play and of course music. The hour quickly passed and the time for parting approached. A lifetime later, an old man smiled as he recalled the odd feeling of amazing happiness he felt that stressful day.

The two met every so often after school. Kurt always looked happy and Blaine, well, sometimes confused. Thoughts of a dishy assistant managers danced in his head. Every day, after practice, he strolled to the Limabean stopping to stare in the window. The sight made the Warbler feel over joyed. A giddy smile usually came to his face. Then, he would see Kurt and a different sensation washed over him.

A little while later, Kurt told Blaine about Karofsky’s expulsion. Days later Kurt asked him to go to his father’s wedding. To Kurt’s disappointment, Blaine politely declined. He did, however, phone Kurt the morning of the festivities to apologize. During the evening Blaine found himself pleasantly surprised when Kurt took the time to call him. Burt’s best man told the Warbler about Finn’s song. While Blaine found it adorable denying his jealousy proved hard.

The day Kurt transferred to Dalton worried Blaine. Lazy, soft fear touched him but the thought of having Kurt around excited. He paced. Part of the morning involved watching the front door. Some of it vanished within his aimless wondering. Running into Wes and David brought him down to earth. Embarrassed, Blaine had to chuckle. He felt stupid.

Kurt came through the door with Carole and Burt. The head master came out to meet them. Blaine watched from a hidden access point. Kurt had a lovely smile on his face. The Warbler melted and then suddenly turned away. He has an interest in someone else, though they had never met. The through of Jeremiah, made him smirk. After Rachel’s party celebrating the selling of her parent’s house, the two boys briefly reminisced. Years later they laughed. When it came down to it, neither of them had been with anyone else. They enjoyed an almost exclusive life.

Kurt’s first day at Dalton did not turn out as he would have liked. On the stairs, Kurt admitted to Blaine it would take a bit to get accustomed to the changes. Vying for a solo turned out to be disheartening. His only companion at Dalton kindly eased him through the letdown. Regardless, Kurt hid for most of the day. At McKinley he had to fight for solos. At Dalton, everything happened by committee. The structure pulled at his sense of self.

As the day wore one Blaine got concerned. He had not seen Kurt at all. When he finally spotted the new kid, Blaine froze. Kurt sat alone amongst the flower beds on a bench. An open book rested on his lap. He leaned forward with his fists pressed into his chin. The Warbler stood the for a moment watching. His heart wept. The poor boy had come to Dalton under strenuous circumstances. The Warbler soloist struggled. Both boys had followed a similar path. While not the same, the comparisons frightened Blaine. A bully has threaded to kill Kurt. Daniel struck his son.

Quietly stepping closer, Blaine said in a soft voice, “Kurt.”

The new kid turned on the bench and glanced back. He sort of smiled.

“Can I join you?”

“I guess it would be ok.”

Blaine walked around the flower beds sitting himself at the end of the bench. “Are you alright, Kurt?”

The other boy closed his book putting it down on his shoulder bag. Drawing up in a deep breath, Kurt pulled on leg up as a turned to face Blaine. His eyes looked red. “I don’t know.”

“It’s been hard on you.”

“I’ll get over it.”

“I’m here for you, Kurt.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I would like to think we’re friends.”

“Are we, Kurt?”

“Yes.”

Blaine’s heart jumped. “We’ve been friends since the first day we met, Kurt.”

Frozen in spot, Kurt’s chin quivered.

Caught in a moment of utter innocence, the other boy looked so cute. Something about the way Kurt held himself mesmerized Blaine. He watched the way his chest rose and fall. Emotions close on the surface. At the same time he guarded himself. Blaine saw a juicy enigma.

Suddenly embarrassed, Blaine’s eyes cycled down to the palm of his right hand. In a deep but quiet tone he said, “Kurt, listen to me. In our own way, we have both been through the ringer. I told you I ran to Dalton. There is some truth in that. Bullying had a lot to do with it. Family issues played a big roll. It has not been all fun, Kurt. However, since coming here I have found peace regardless of the assholes. We Warblers look out for one another. They looked out for me.”

“It’s good to have friends.”

“You miss yours,” Blaine edged closer along the bench.

Kurt held his breath. His eyes looked suddenly distant. “Glee club saved me. I considered…well…it is done now. ”

“Kurt?”

“Blaine, it’s alright. I’m past that. My sophomore year was utter hell. The councilor called my dad. I saw the fear in his eyes and the pain of not knowing what to do.”

Blaine said nothing.

Sucking in air, Kurt said, “He wanted me to join a club. He would have preferred football. I ended up in glee.”

“And I’m so happy you did.”

“So am I.”

The smile that lit up Kurt’s face resonated upon old Blaine like so many memories. Turning his head on the pillow, he looked at his love’s placid face. He felt surprisingly young.


	6. Those Eyes.

Devastation. Humiliation. The mind had wrapped it up all in a tight little bow ready for delivery to a gullible heart. Then the guillotine fell opening a pit. Swirling blackness engulfed a young man. Calling out, the only thing that answered came in the form of demoralizing silence. The tumbling stretched into eternity and then Blaine sensed something. Hands grasped to him. The Warblers, his mom, Kurt, those people he knew from McKinley, friends from his other schools. They all tried but none could reach. His eyes went up to a point of light far above. Jeremiah stood there, his hands outstretched as if he had pushed. Blaine felt so stupid.

Hopelessness filled the darkness as he tumbled into agonizing fear. Did love really exist? What an asinine question? Of course it did. Blaine loved his mother, friends and even Kurt in that brotherly way. It played all around him. Still, who knew what true love felt like? When he felt his worst, something grasped him. The abyss vanished. Trees grew up all around him. A hand touched his. The heart quivered with such great emotion it could have exploded. Spinning around he stared into bright blue eyes.

Eyelids fluttered. Glancing down Blaine gazed at a pair of black shoes. Thank the gods for Kurt. Yes, he had that smug, I told you so, look on his face. Blaine should have accepted those subtle little hints. Why, could not he be a little less subtle? The boy’s introverted natures irritated and charmed. Then, like a flash of bright light in a dark room, that elusiveness vanished. Lined up at the Limabean he dropped the proverbial bombshell. Blaine stumbled. Until that moment he had not even thought of Kurt boyfriend material. Yet, Blaine admitted he liked Kurt very, very much. Blaine’s heart rolled down into the pit of his stomach. At the same moment, some remote part of him jumped for joy. It took considerable effort to maintain the proper level of decorum.

Blaine scarcely recognized things as the barista passed two steaming cups of coffee to Kurt. Somewhere, perhaps when the cups exchanged hand, flesh touched flesh. Nearly a century later Blaine grinned. At this point in time he felt the same overwhelming sensation. In his youth, it crashed into him like a brick in the face. Lust or love. Jeremiah, lust? Kurt, Love? Love! Not…love? It could not be…love? Impossible. It only happened in movies and for old people in their twenties. A teenager, love? Primal urges, gods, yes. How he wanted to experience primal urges those voluminous blond curls represented.

Tingling shot all the way to Blaine’s crotch. Blood surged. Gods, not now! Then it settled as if a warm blanket had been thrown over him. It took only a simple touch? Blaine felt overwhelmed.   
The Warbler missed a step as he turned from the counter. A hint of something flickered in Kurt’s eyes hitting Blaine in a manner he had never sensed before. Digging into his soul, the heart skipped not one but three beats. For a second, the young man felt he would die. Whirling darkness returned and then a silver bell smashed the crushing silence. A hand slipped into a hand, right to left. Two people walked up a grassy hill. Large trees grew up all around them. Silent emotions spoke in their hearts making words unimportant. 

The vista before them ranged out onto the violent ocean. A gently rolling slope ended in a stark yellow cliff and then the turbulent sea. A man-of-war fought against a stiff wind as it rounded the point of Plymouth harbor. Britain ruled the waves. Love ruled the heart.

Two would be lovers turned to one another. Their eyes met. Blaine blinked. He barely saw the sugar fall into the cup. Absently stirring, he glanced up at Kurt beside him. The new Warbler spoke but Blaine scarcely perceived. The beating of his heart, two hearts, captured him. The two boys stood two feet apart but it felt as if naked, masculine chests rested on top of one another. Blue eyes gazed into hazel. Ultimate, timeless love twirled with the shimmering orbs. The mind considered it impossible. The heart did not understand the term, impossible. 

“Blaine?” Kurt’s questioned.

Something inside tore as if a page pulled away from a book. The modern world crashed in upon the Warbler, but some part of that page remained. It hovered there in the soft, blue eyes gazing so intently at him. For a moment, Blaine felt faint. He blinked.

‘I think you need to sit.” Kurt said.

A firm hand fell on Blaine’s bicep. It felt surreal, almost ethereal. Salty wind pressed against Blaine’s nose. A man wearing a high collared shirt and jacket stared at him. The short top hat sat to one side on his head. The man smiled and leaned in for a kiss. Wet flesh met wet fresh as unshaved faces met in a moment of taboo.

Kurt pulled him toward a corner table. He said, “Ok, lover boy, sit.”

Placing his butt in the chair, Blaine looked up. Simultaneously he pulled away from an illicit moment in time when prison or worse would result. Kurt’s impish smile appeared perfect. Some aspect of Blaine looked at a lovely man in his thirties. Blaine in the present, teenage Blaine and this specter stared at the same eyes. One set lay closed. One hinted of amusement. The last adored. 

Shaking his head, Blaine sipped his coffee. Letting out a long breath he looked at Kurt. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Kurt responded with roguish innocence. 

“I dragged you into that.”

“Blaine, you helped me through all the stuff with Karorsky. At least I could stand with you at your moment of…”

Blaine cut Kurt off. “Humiliation.”

“Awkwardness doesn’t sound as harsh.” Kurt shifted in his chair. An impish grin pulled his lips wide.

“Yeah, right.” Blaine sucked on his coffee and then slowly shook his head. His eyes however, remained looked on the young face across from him. “Sometimes I wish I was older with all this discovery shit behind me.”

“Come on, Blaine, you had a letdown. We all have. Mercedes chased me for months.”

“Oh?”

“It was kind of cute until she threw a brick through the window of my dad’s truck.”

“Really?”

“I told her I was in a relationship with Rachel.”

Blaine almost spewed his coffee all over the table. 

Kurt pulled himself to the right just in case. When Blaine recovered, Kurt said, “It was the only way I could get her off my back was to tell her I was gay.”

“Wow.” Blaine’s eyes went wide.

Kurt looked down. “She was the first person I told. It was so embarrassed.”

Grinning, Blaine sighed. He held up his coffee as if offering it to Kurt. “To embarrassment.”

“To embarrassment.” Kurt touched his cup.

Blaine’s suddenly burst into laughter. 

Kurt pulled back. “What?”  
Putting his cup down, Blaine rolled his eyes toward the counter. “Those puppies are cute.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Kurt suddenly stood. Without looking back he trotted over to the counter and spoke to the attendant. A moment later, Blaine stared in horror when Kurt artfully strolled back holding a big, bulky, white bag with Limabean splashed across. The other boy stood there and then suddenly thrust it out at Blaine. 

Blaine’s face hardened. “Kurt?” 

Kurt stood there, proudly holding it out. “Just take it.”

Reaching out, Blaine took the puffed out bag. His brow crinkled. Light? 

“Open it.” Kurt sat and sipped his coffee. 

Hesitation and a suddenly flash. Two men sat in the candle light. One read, the other listened. 

“Blaine?” Kurt’s soft tone had a seductive edge to it.

Frowning, Blaine pulled the top of the bag open. Mounds of rumbled white paper assaulted him. His month dropped and then he dug all the way to the bottom. No stuffed dogs. Then, his fingers struck something wrapped in plastic. What? Grasping, he pulled up a large, heart shaped cookie.

“Not as hideous as affectionate puppies.” Kurt smiled.

Blaine felt his right hand pulse. Old Blaine squeezed lifeless fingers. Smothered in candle light, a man in his thirties kissed the hand of another man in his thirties. A shiver tan up an old man’s spine. 

Teenage Blaine held his breath for a moment and then a beaming smile pulled his lips apart. “Kurt, this is perfect.”

Neither boy admitted they slipped silently into something deeper than friendship. They ate their lunches in the garden and met for coffee after school. One or the other would wait for the other to catch up. Duets between the two grew numerous. Blaine felt embarrassed the first time a group of the Warblers sneaked into the room to listen. 

Then, heavenly drunken disaster. Everything went well until that kiss. Wow, what a kiss. Blaine had kissed no one like that before. Full tongue. My, Rachel knew how to work it. The aftermath turned into a debacle. Kurt got upset. Blaine got defensive. Rachel got predatory.

Once out in the cool air, Blaine stopped. Kurt, how dare he? He thought the two understood one other. Had he fooled himself, again? His heart suddenly froze. His father would shoot through the roof. Blaine kissed a girl. They already had words about the time he spent growing friendship with his fellow Warbler. Blaine’s frowned.

Nervous, Blaine talked himself out of cancelling the date. Maybe bisexual fit better than gay? Rachel had a refreshing, quirky edge to her he found exciting. Dressed to match, they sang along with the play. She over powered him and Blaine pushed to match. It became a little competitive. Then, a love song and Rachel turned to him. Blaine knew what she wanted? Could he repeat it? Youthful, yearning months reached to one another. Then an earthquake erupted within Blaine’s chest. In the corner of his eye he noticed the actors on the stage subtly morph. Two men wearing stiff, early eighteen hundred’s formal wear stood before a roaring fireplace holding hands. Soft, tender, deep voices harmonized perfectly.

Suddenly, the popcorn container came up between himself and Rachel. Batting eyes pulled back as Blaine’s fingers dug into the slick container. He noticed the hope wash from Rachel’s eyes only to be replaced with stubborn determination. Blaine’s chest hurt. That night he could not sleep. Rachel kept texting him. Kurt remained suspiciously silent. The lack of a single smiley face struck him right in the ribs. What a mess.

Again, lips pressed against his. A tongue pushed out. Blaine kept his mouth as tightly as he could. The ambush had probably been Rachel’s idea but seeing Kurt sent Blaine’s head spinning. Surprised, the actor within took over. Stiffly, Blaine made his platitudes to Rachel and then escaped.

Locking the stall door behind him, Blaine’s dropped his bag. Hands coming up to his face, he drew his fingers slowly down. Digits hovered at his chin. He felt a tear build in the corner of his eye. What had he done? Did cheating feel like this? He felt awful. In two ways he felt his heart sink. Somewhere a man with hazel eyes sat in a closed carriage. He stared listlessly out at the fields. Tears rolled down his cheeks. His new bride rested her head upon his shoulder quietly breathing. The coach ride from Plymouth to Kent would take a days. He dreaded it all. Duty and fortune tore him away from his one true love. Would they meet again?

The gentle rap on the door broke Blaine’s concentration. Pulling at the roll of toilet paper he wiped the tears from his face. Flushing he paused and drew in a deep breath. Hesitantly he opened the door to find Kurt leaned against the counter. Those eyes.


	7. Flustered

Blaine turned the corner and slowed. Old Blaine smiled as he gazed at his beloved’s face. He knew what would come. While the real conversation would come up later, those in front of him represented the warm up. It all started with boyish Kurt unceremoniously blurted out his feeling about his frequent and beautiful solos. Aged Blaine remembered how his younger self flushed and the odd sense of shame. Yes, he had a beautiful voice and talent glamour. Ego, nah, Blaine did not suffer from that. Or did he? Could Kurt be right? 

The day carried on within a daze. None of it settled well and Blaine did not know why other than it sort of reminded him of wanting a puppy. The thought would have made him laugh if not for the odd sensation gripping his chest. He felt uncomfortable and did not want to face people but circumstance conspired against him. The Warblers gathered about to talk about things. Somewhere in the mix Kurt hovered about though sometime later he spotted the teen slipping out through a side door. The sight pulled at the heart.

Lunch turned into a disaster of sorts. Hoping to see Kurt made him both giddy. When Kurt did not show he felt a sinking sensation and then he remembered the teen had a lunch date with his step-brother and Rachel. Damn. 

Sitting there, stewing in a pot of competing emotions, Blaine felt as if he slowly flew apart. He picked at his food his mind wandered all over the place. For god sake he had a test this afternoon. Feeling stupid did not help matters. He had to pull himself together.

In the corner of his eye he saw a door open. Enthusiasm swelled and then saw Trent and Conner. Blaine wanted to hide but he could have done worse? The cubby Warbler would never harm a soul. Conner, well, he had his moments and a mouth. He liked gossip. Blaine had to handle this with care.

The look one Trent’s face changed the moment he saw Blaine passing along the opposite wall. Nervousness reflected in his tone, “Blaine, do you have second?”

Blaine caught his breath and smiled. He looked at his watch. “I’ve got a couple.”

“That’s all we need,” Conner commented. Mischief sparkled in his eye.

Crossing his arms, Blaine cut to the chase. “You think Kurt’s right.”

The two other Warblers exchanged glances. Together they said, “Yes.”

“Then bring it up in council,” Blaine bluntly suggested. 

Trent hesitated. “Come off it, Blaine? They won’t listen.” 

“The two of you sound great together,” Conner, a dark haired junior Warbler, suddenly announced. 

Trent checks turned red. His eyes darted to Conner as if they had crossed innocent line. 

“Thanks, guys.” Blaine looked at his watch again. “I really have to go.”

Stepping around his fellow Warblers, Blaine held his head high until he turned the next corner. All of sudden he feet unconsciously carry himself faster and his head drooped. Controlled thoughts scattered. Once again, introverted Kurt nailed him to the wall. Graceful words did not spread the pain thin. It if had come from anyone else, Blaine would not have felt so bad. 

The fact that Kurt could so easily entrap him, bothered Blaine. Yes, he liked having Kurt about. His shy, awkwardness went beyond amusing into the realm of cute and adorable. Ever since the Gap fiasco he did not know what to think. That day went beyond weird. He thought the intervening weeks would have tempered things but the more he spoke with Kurt, emotions twisted. It hurt when they separated. Seeing him made his so happy but…yes…but. He just could not be sure. That odd image of Jeremiah at the top of a long black tube haunted him. Blaine wished he know what it meant.

Worst, he had a family dinner tonight. His brother found the time to visit. Mother and father buried the hatchet just for a few days. Daniel fawned over Cooper, the successful son. He did everything right. He had a real career. He dated girls. Blaine dreaded what would come.

As the evening wore on Blaine hoped a text from Kurt would distract him. The first arrived just before they sat down for dinner. Daniel frowned. Blaine turned the phone off. After dinner when father and his oldest son bonded on the back porch and before his youngest son sunk his hands into the sink, Blaine turned his phone on. Three messages from Kurt. He smiled. The break he wanted. Cooper had spent the entire evening talking about himself. He had just been offered a national commercial. Dad slapped him on the back even as he sneered at number two son.

Around ten, when Blaine stood half-dressed getting ready for bed, Cooper burst into his room. He smelt of beer. Throwing himself on the bed, he snatched Blaine’s phone from his hands.

“Hey!” Blaine snatched at his phone but the older, more agile brother rolled off the queen sized mattress. 

“What do we have here?” Cooper stepping toward the closet. 

Blaine threw himself over the bed but his shorter stature could not keep up. 

“Kurt, Kurt and Kurt,” Cooper read the list of names. “Rachel?”

“Cooper!” Blaine complained. His chest pressed into his brother’s back as he tried to reach around to grab the phone. 

Twisting to keep his brother at bay, Cooper read the messages. His struggling suddenly stopped allowing Blaine to seize the device. The older brother straightened up and slowly turned. His face went serious. 

Staring up at his brother clutching his phone against his chest the colour drained from Blaine’s face. The stomach turned and for a moment thought he would throw up. The muscle in the center of his chest pounded against his ribs. 

“No, no, little brother, it’s alright.” A hand suddenly fell on Blaine’s shoulder. 

Blaine tried to pull away and then stopped. He looked confused. 

Standing there facing his brother, Cooper lifted his hand. In a soft, uncharacteristically compassionate tone he asked, “Kurt? Is he your boyfriend?”

“No!”

“Blaine, I’ve known for a long time. So, my little brother is gay. Big deal. There’s lots of gay people in TV.” 

Blaine just stood there unable to speak. Kindness form his brother? Cooper, like most older brothers, used Blaine as a punching bag as they grew up. Nothing like dad, Blaine could honestly say he loved his brother when he kept ego in check.

Daniel suddenly flung the door open. He glared at Blaine and then smiled at Cooper. “Come son, let’s hit the pool hall.”

The next morning, Blaine’s mood hovered somewhere between sour and foul. He hated watching his dad and Cooper being so chummy. Part of him always wanted that kind of relationship with both. Cooper held possibilities. Blaine wrought off his father months ago. 

The day became strangely surreal when Kurt arrived late for the Warbler meeting. Dressed all in black, he looked mysteriously sad. While, at times, Blaine found it aggravating, he liked the fact Kurt did not hide his emotions. Even though he loved Dalton, Kurt’s individualism rushed through the halls like a fresh wind. The broaches he wore affected everyone. Blaine doubted he even realized it. 

What happened next pulled Blaine completely off course. His friend’s face spoke of abject pain. The manner in which he sung wrenched the heart. As he sat watching Kurt pour his heart out over a canary, Blaine saw something very much deeper. Kurt sobbed for his mother. The thought struck Blaine to the core. To lose your mother at such a young age, he could not comprehend the complexity of emotions involved. Yes, he did not like his father, but at least he lived. Kurt stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks as if lost. Blaine noted the look on some of the other Warblers. While they felt for Kurt, they did not understand. The pain went deeper, far deeper. Blaine’s mind went to those two men he saw in those odd, fleeting flashes. The scene seemed so real, important and complete. Resistance melted. 

Thoughts mangled together. Cooper’s simple comment weighted on Blaine. Kurt’s singing finally tipped the scales. Now, how to approach his mounting frustrations. Thinking about it only turned Blaine stomach upside down. Did he make some big, fancy deal of it with roses and dinner? Oh gods, no, it would probably scare both of them. A card? Too simple. Should he sing it? Sentiment hit the floor. The last time he did that ended up as a distressing muddle. 

The more he considered a bold move, the harder it got. Blaine saw himself unravelling at the knees. Every time he caught a glimpse of Kurt he felt like fainting. He purposely began to avoid him. The sight of the handsome young man confused, even hurt and elated beyond reason. Intermixed within a twisting menagerie of emotions, lingered a haunting image of another era. Long, sleepless hours convinced him of a bizarre but simple truth. Sure frustration enabled him to turn logic off. Once that happened, the heart remained. The sensations floored him. Oddly, after only two hours sleep, Blaine rose amazing refreshed. 

The pounding in his chest got worse as he approached Dalton. Kurt should have noticed. Others did. David and Wes confronted him after the morning practice. Blaine avoided the issue. They got their answer when Blaine shattered Warbler history.

The meeting dragged on and on. They argued over what song Blaine should led them in. The looks in Trent’s eyes pleaded. Conner looked self-assured. Kurt looked positively distraught. The look both killed Blaine and gave him confidence. Then someone said something about Blaine choosing for himself. Emotion leapt forward and words flowed from junior Warbler’s mouth. Bringing up Pavarotti’s death became the passionate hammer ended all debate. The members and the council caved in around him. Kurt’s honest and innocent comment about auditioning sealed the deal. Blaine hated to admit it he knew Kurt too well.

Even though all hands rose, Blaine noted the ‘what the fucks’ and ‘what’ looks. Even as Trent slapped the amazed Kurt on the back and Blaine grinned like a Cheshire cat. The surprise on Kurt’s face filled him with honest joy. His fellow Warbler had endured so much. In some small way it felt as if Blaine has erased that all at once. He knew what he felt but now Blaine needed to take a deep breath before plunging into the scary part.

The best laid plans always fall to shit. With regionals looming just over the horizon and his mind stuck in the clouds, Blaine found himself consumed with how to approach the issue of Kurt. Lost in a haze, he happened he glanced into the library. Kurt sat with a table covered in stuff with a glue bottle in his hand. What? Innocently Blaine walked it. As soon as he opened his mouth, the shadows of doom crossed over him. All logic swirled away as pure emotion flushed carefully practiced words down the preverbal toilet. Somewhere within the haze of his mind, he saw two men in their thirties standing on a grassy hill holding hands. 

Wow that kiss. It bowled Blaine over. Nerves fired from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. The heart swelled beyond proportion as everything fell into place. Pure and unfettered love etched itself into every cell of his body. No fireworks. No brass band blaring in the ear. What he felt went far deeper than anything he thought he felt for Jeremiah. His head swirled and then time seemed to stand still. Emotions reached out, to god knows where. Like the echo of a sonar, the answer returned more than once. 

Pressing is tongue into Kurt’s willing mouth, his hand touched perfection. Then flawlessness fingers racked down his cheek to his throat. The other man’s face pressed into his even harder. Breathing became difficult but Blaine did not care. Then, as if Kurt knew, his lips pulled apart ever so briefly allowing both to catch a quick breath. Then, the two boys smashed into one another once more. 

Flabbergasted, eventually Blaine breathlessly pulled away. Hazel eyes stared into blue. For a brief second blazing white light surrounded the stunning young man across from him. Pasted to the floor, he could not move. Why should he? He stared into the most heavenly eyes he had ever seen. Deep inside something stirred. He saw those eyes stretching back in time. 

A knuckles hitting the table top jolted him. Suddenly smiling, Blaine sat back. A hand came up to his face and he glanced down at the table. Hesitation gripped and then, in a low, hushed voice, he said, “We should practice.”

“It thought we were,” Kurt nervously replied.

Without thinking Blaine leaned into Kurt. Tender, smooth, moist skin pressed into one another. The motion of their passion pulled the two of the m to their feet. Bodies crushed against one another and arms wrapped trembling human forms. Slowly turning, they bumped into the table and lost any sense of time. They danced together within their own little world until someone cleared their throat. The two boys literally pushed themselves apart. Fumbling, self-consciousness gripped them when they spun around to see a leggy teacher standing in the door. She looked mildly amused. Faces flushed redder when they realized the extent to which groaning tents stretched their trousers.


	8. It's Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING - This chapter contains sexual acts. The rating of this volume does not change until the boys reach the bedroom. After that, boys will be boys.

Guilt touched Blaine. He felt so stupid but also greatly relieved. Friday night splashed about in a morass of ugly. Dancing, drinking, and openly flirting with someone other than his love. He liked the attention and the freedom alcohol provided, but it left a bad taste in his mouth and heart. Storming off in the parking lot sobered him up enough to suddenly feel miserable. The idea his actions caused Kurt discomfort had never crossed his mind. Throwing himself down on a wet bench, he placed his head in his hands. Looking back the way he had come, he shook his head. He hated himself for causing their first moment of discourse.

Saturday stared Blaine in the face along with the spreading joy of his first hangover. Words barely passed between the strained boyfriends when the cast gathered for a pre-opening night pep talk. The events and tumbling emotions caught both of them up in a title wave. Blaine could see the desolation in his eyes as Kurt moved about the stage doing what he had to do. The silence killed him but a grin here and there cut the tension. The former Warbler felt awful. He adored Kurt but did not know what to do. Nothing had prepared him for the hurt love rendered. At moments bravery took him and then absolute fear. Who could he talk to? None of his friends would understand.

The show went on. The crowd loved it. Blaine felt elated but also sad. He half-heartedly promised he would meet up with the gang later. Oddly, Kurt had not been part of that conversation. He, Burt and Carole busily chatted off stage. When everyone ran off to celebrate Blaine sank into a funk. Using a bad dance step as an excuse, he lingered behind.

That single move reflected the way Blaine felt. Over and over again he twisted his body up into the air hoping he could get more than just right. Landing for the seventh time he caught something in the corner of his eye. Spinning about, Kurt stood there. They sort of smiled at one another. Words passed between them but Blaine scarcely heard then until a name escaped Kurt’s lips. It smacked like a hand sharply hitting his cheek.

Regret swelling in his chest, Blaine half smiled. Glancing at his sullen boyfriend, he said, “Come here. Gimme your hand.”

The other boy strolled over.

Taking Kurt’s hand in his Blaine pressed it against the other boy’s chest adding, “And hold it to your heart.”

“Just like the song?” Kurt asked.

“Like the song. Kurt…” Blaine breathed, his chest tight. Looking directly into Kurt’s eyes, he continued, “Sebastian doesn’t mean anything to me. And you were right. Our first time shouldn’t be like that. I was drunk, and I’m sorry.”

Kurt looked suddenly bashful. “Well, it sure beats the last time you were drunk and made out with Rachel.”

Blaine’s heads sank to his chest as he shook it ever so slightly. He had a stupid smirk on his face.

Grinning, Kurt apologized, “But I’m sorry too. I wanted to be your gay bar superstar, but, try as I might, I’m still just a silly romantic.”

“It’s not silly.” Blaine leaned and kissed Kurt. Not a simple peck, passion swelled. Arms wrapped away from one another in a long, loving embrace.

Pulling away, Kurt exhaled. “You take my breath away. Not just now, but tonight on that stage. I was so proud to be with you.”

“I hope so.” Blaine paused and then finished in a deeper, gravelly tone, “I want you to be.”

Kurt smiled.

“Um…” Blaine hesitated. “Artie’s having an after party. At Breadstix. Would you accompany me?”

A pregnant pause and then Kurt seductively said, “No. I wanna go to your house.”

“Okay,” Blaine softly replied. His heart jumped.

Blaine drove. Holding hands neither of them spoke. They did not need to. Rubbing thumbs together they both knew what approached. Apprehension stuck as he turned the corner heading down the street he lived on. His father would be away. Pam would already be asleep. Cooper, no worry, he would not be back for months. The moment on the stage together made Blaine tingle down to his toes. The touch of his hand sent his head spinning. It felt so comforting. In that place where only memory lived, he also held that hand. It still felt warm. Memories of a life well spent surrounded him. Yet, they did not tell the entire story. Nothing could rightfully capture those last few moments as the car slowed. Blaine wanted to make it last. Shock almost killed it all together. Daniel’s car sat in the driveway.

“Oh dear,” Blaine chocked. He looked to Kurt, his car slowing to a virtual stop fifty feet from the driveway.

“What?” Kurt did not understand the circumstance.

“My father’s home,” Blaine felt Kurt’s hand suddenly go cold. Until now, it had been softly trembling.

“We don’t…” Kurt’s voice quivered.

Blaine looked to his left. The boy he loved looked so disappointed. Drawing in a breath, Blaine squeezed. “No, no Kurt, we soldier on.”

“But Blaine?”

“He’s probably been drinking and mom’s a heavy sleeper. If we are quiet…”

“But.”

Blaine lifted Kurt’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “Do you want this?”

“More than anything,” came the breathless, shaking replied.

Blaine smiled and eased the car into the drive way. A few minutes later they stood on the back porch. Blaine put a finger to his lips as if signaling for silence. Sliding the key into the lock, he carefully turned it and pushed. The hinge squeaked. Gods, he needed to oil that. Then he looked at Kurt and down at their shoes. Taking them off, Kurt went to put his down but Blaine shook his head.

“Who’s there,” a deep voice suddenly called out.

Kurt panicked but Blaine reassuringly squeezed his hand. He called out, “Just me, dad.”

A loud grunt replied. Blaine’s father ended another fight in the bottle. Hopefully he sat in his usual spot. If luck held, the boys could pad up the stairs unseen. He glanced at Kurt’s shadowy face and grinned. Tugging, he led him across the kitchen and into the short hall leading to the stairs. He paused for a brief and Kurt bumped into Blaine. Somewhere nearby a glass hit a table followed by snoring.

Blood pumped under warm skin of the hand he held. Edging up the stairs, the sensation assured Blaine they did the right thing. The leader slowed when the hall came into view. No lights, great. Pulling Kurt, the other boy almost tripped. Kurt stifled a squeak of surprise. Catching him, Blaine smiled and he led on. Kurt resisted but Blaine did not give in. Nothing in the world could prevent this now.

A moment later Blaine heaved a sigh of relief when he pushed his door shut. The boy in the lead beamed. The boy who followed fearfully glanced about. Kurt looked both horrified and elated. He went to speak but Blaine put a finger to his lips. Excitement buzzed around them like static electricity. They made it.

Hearts pounded. Now that things sort of calmed down, both boys felt it. They could breath. Kurt’s fear faded away into an adorably wicked grin. Blaine swore he could see the words in his head. Together the just stood there, holding trembling hands. Sparse beams of light drifted through the breaks in the curtains. Blaine watched Kurt’s alabaster skin. He looked so cute.

“Now what?” Kurt whispered so quietly the words could barely be heard. His voice wavered with fear and anticipation.

The answer came in the form of a kiss. Blaine threw himself at Kurt forcing the slightly older boy off balance. Together they fell onto the bed wrapping their arms about one another. Tongues lashed at one another in a confined space. For the longest time hands remained locked in place behind each other’s backs. Squished underneath, Kurt squirmed. Blaine rolled to his right dragging Kurt onto his side. Their lips never left one another even as he gasped for air. A hand pulled at the back of Blaine’s shirt sending a shiver up his spin. Light fingers caressed the skin in the small of his back. Things became to swell.

Suddenly, Kurt pushed away. Panting, he had a confused look on his face. Without thinking, Blaine reached behind taking Kurt’s hand and placing it back where it had been. Kurt grinned and pulled at the cloth. The cutest boy in the world wore a polo shirt over a tank top. Kurt worked the outer layer up. In response Blaine sat up reaching up over his head to grab the fabric. Kurt suddenly clutched Blaine’s hands. Shaking his head, he pulled at the first layer pulling it up over Blaine’s head. The tank top came with it but never made it all the way. The polo landed on the floor as a single finger landed on Blaine’s chest above the rim of the tank top. He traced the curving line.

Cheerful, Blaine reached for Kurt’s shirt. The other boy did not objection when he pulled it off leaving a t-shirt beneath. Suddenly they paused. Eyes locked together, the settled down on the bed nose to nose. Gazing at each other, legs pulled up with knees close together, Kurt’s thumb lazily caressed Blaine chest through thin fabric. Caught in the moment, neither of them moved. Heaven touched them. For a moment one of them thought he saw a thirties something man staring at him. The other sensed something odd. Goosebumps erupted on bare skin. Slowly, their hands came together and Blaine smiled ever so sweetly. Lying there felt like utter perfection. Breathing and hearts synchronized.

To the surprise of both, Kurt jumped first. Driving his mouth into Blaine’s he rolled up on top of him. Arms wrapped around his back. Fabric moved and then Kurt rose up tearing his undershirt off. Blaine’s hands pressed up against warm, erect nipples. Kurt pushed them down as he leaned into for a long, wet kiss. When he came up for air, he yanked Blaine’s tank top up over his head. By now, Blaine’s fingers had found the ridge of Kurt’s pants. Digging down past the visa line, Kurt let out moan. The land south the border had all the smoothness of a newborn. The boy on top squirmed and threw himself at Blaine. Lips locked and then he worked his way down to his neck around to the arm. Pushing an arm out of the way as the tongue washed into the underarm. Blaine wildly twitched. Down the side of the ribcage and over to the belly button. Moving down to the waist line, he suddenly stopped and looked up at his beautiful boyfriend. Blaine shined.

Fingers fumbled with a snap. The sipper moved and then hesitant anticipation gripped Kurt paused again. He looked up to only to see Blaine nodding. The ripping sound of metal against metal lasted but a second. Pushing thick cloth to each side, Kurt stared at blue underwear. Something plump and hard pressed up against it. The air escaping Kurt’s nostrils tantalized. Blaine’s head rolled to the right. The moment approached. The sensation of the man he loved pulling his pants down increased everything thing he felt.

Kurt pulled like a mad man removing the jeans faster than expected. Lying there only in his underwear, the pride of Blaine youthful manhood stretched underneath. Suddenly the former Warbler felt no weight upon up. Puzzled, he looked up. Kurt stood at end of the bed staring at him with wide, adoring eyes. The moment lingered until Kurt reached for the snap of his pants. Blaine rose up shaking his head. Scooting to the end of the bed, he kissed Kurt’s torso and then bent down low. Pressing his mouth against bulging jeans, he chewed the rigidity beneath. Innocent peeking at urinals had nothing on the real thing. The monster of his dreams waited to be unleashed. With delicate care he playfully pulled Kurt’s pants down. To his surprise, Kurt wore no underwear.

Kurt shivered and the joy between his legs suddenly lost some of it firmness. Blaine looked up. Kurt stared down at him with wide eyes shame. He younger lad gave Kurt a reassuring smile. Before Blaine stood the most gorgeous man in the world. Slowly standing, Blaine lashed his tongue across Kurt’s teenage stubble. A hand touched the thickening fuzz growing upon Blaine’s chest.

Taking Kurt’s right hand in his, Blaine forced it down to his underwear. The other boy’s finger quivered with hesitated. Kissing Kurt, Blaine pushed it further until it lay upon his cock. Soft hands wrapped around seven and a half inches of firm chunkiness. Blaine reached back and his shorts fell to his ankles. Naked at last, the two boys stood gazing at one another. One of them gently held the other’s private bits.

Hazel eyes racked the shadowy body in front of him. Suddenly, Blaine fell to his knees. Kurt wanted to go with him but hand pushed him up. He whimpered when Blaine’s tongue tracked up his semi-hardness bringing it back to life. A hand landed on Blaine’s shoulder as the lashing rolled down to the hair at the base of his thickening shaft. Bring his face up the other side, Blaine curled it tongue over an anticipating head. Taking it in his mouth, the girth of Kurt’s nine inch penis spread his gums wide. Fighting back a gag, he pulled back just as Kurt groaned. Riding his lips down again, the journeyed a little further. With each repeat he took more into his willing mouth.

All of a sudden Kurt pulled away. Just as the swollen head escaped the moist cave, the kneeling boy felt the pressure of something splashing against his nose, cheek and lips. Blaine abruptly threw his head back and let out a low, rumbling moan. A stream of hot cream sprayed out across the rug and up Kurt’s leg.

Gooey sauce dipped from Blaine’s nose. Too soon. Too excited. Lovely. Reaching for his tank top he wiped his face as his eyes went up to Kurt. He stood there with his chin hanging down quivering. Quickly standing, Blaine placed both hand on his face. A tear escaped Kurt’s eyes.

“Sh-h-h-h,” Blaine reassured his lover.

Kurt stumbled on his words. “Blaine…I…”

Kissing his stunning boyfriend, Blaine shared the taste of what remained on his face. Wrapping his arms about Kurt, he turned him around and carefully lowered him on to the bed. Kurt resisted but gave into Blaine’s tender ministrations.

Shivering, tears rolling down his cheeks, Kurt pushed Blaine back. “I…I…so...”

“Sh-h-h-h, Kurt.” Blaine kissed him.

“Blaine…”

“Think of that as an eager appetizer.”

“Blaine?”

“Now for the man course.”

The puzzled look on Kurt’s face vanished when Blaine fell upon him. Hot and heavy kisses rained upon Kurt as the two rolled about like frenzied rabbits. All the porn Blaine watched suddenly came into play as he explored the body in a manner Kurt would never expect. Nibbling and licking his way along fingers to the nap of the neck and around nipped at his ears. Purposely staying away from the ultimate erogenous zone, Blaine left little untouched. Kurt’s body violently gyrated. Gently chewing on the knee produced groans. Sucking on toes caused him to pull his feet way. Blaine did not give in as he pulled him back into his willing month. Kurt barely got the option to reciprocate. Blaine took over teasing him with tender smooches.

Sometime later, both young men stretched to their generous fullness again. Kurt became more aggressive as he reached to Blaine’s cock. His partner allowed him a tantalizing grope but not much more. Abruptly Blaine rolled away. Reaching to his nightstand, he open the drawer pulling out a small, half empty tube. Twisting the top off as he turned, he squirted an abundant supply onto Kurt’s cock. The other boy jumped at the sudden chill but moaned at the silky message.

Tossing the tube aside, Blaine threw his leg over Kurt so he straddled him. Clasping Kurt’s throbbing member in his hand, Blaine lowered himself upon it until the head pushed into him. Pain suddenly stopped him. The look on Kurt’s face turned from utter astonishment to deep concern. Eyes pleaded but the boy on top only blew him a kiss and pressed down until he could take no more. He waited a few seconds and then exerted himself again. Discomfort flashed over his face and Kurt pushed against his lover’s chest trying to get him off. Blaine pressed down again and winced. Another inch and then a few seconds to caught his breath. It took a few moments but his buttock finally rested on Kurt’s pelvis.

“Blaine?” Kurt gasped. Blue eyes stared up in the dim light.

Blaine felt the skin down there pull beyond what he could consider comfortable. He endured even as he felt the girth diminish. Fear etched across Kurt’s face. Blaine reached out and stroke the cheek of the man he loved. “No, I am fine. Just hurts a bit.”

“We can…”

“No,”

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice had force to it.

Taking Kurt’s hand, Blaine kissed it. “My sweet, sweet Kurt, I’ve wanting this for weeks.”

Kurt smiled as Blaine leaned forward into a kiss. He grunted with the discomfort.

As if by instinct, Kurt’s hips rose up with Blaine pressing his cock deeper into his lover. Lips pressed into one another with affectionate reassurance. The tenderness of their meeting allowed both of them to relax. In response, the man on top moved his body so he rode up and down on the softer shaft. The motion caused it to pulse and regain its stunning glory. Soreness gripped him now and then but Blaine no longer cared. The love of his life reached deeper into him than he had ever thought possible. As the motions increased, ecstasy took both of them. Slowly Kurt got into the rhythm. Blaine moaned as his head rolled back. One of Kurt’s hands came up and played with a nipple. The other stroked his lover’s cock. Twenty, thirty minutes later Kurt suddenly arched his back. Thrusting up into Blaine, he tried to push his lover off him. Blaine resisted by pushing down onto the engorged cock. He played it until Kurt called out. Blaine exploded onto Kurt’s hairless chest at the exact same moment.

Sweating, the stayed as they were for a while longer. Beaming at one another, Blaine slowly, even painfully, removed himself from top of his exquisite lover. Rolling over onto his side Blaine felt perfectly satisfied and ultimately in love. Nothing he watched or fantasized could have prepared him for the real thing. Only two people occupied the planet. A car passing on the street meant nothing. Only Kurt existed.

Leaning into Kurt, Blaine kissed his nose and then he laid his head on the affectionate man’s chest. A fingers came up and traced a line through the warm liquid running down Kurt to the rumbled quilt. Eyes locked on each other. Eventually, they fell asleep clutching one another.

Holding steading in a heightened emotional state, Blaine leaned forward and kissed his lover’s still hand. The warmth of that moment so many years ago filled the old man with such adoring love he could burst. Suddenly he chuckled. It became a low cough. Two listless boys had no idea Pam guarded the door. In the morning they woke to a quiet house. A note slid under the door told Blaine his parents had gone out for breakfast and some shopping. Cleaning up led to arousal and Blaine’s chance to enter Kurt. That night they happily and a little uncomfortably grinned at one another across the stage.


	9. Date Night

An old man remembered their first night together with fondness. Smiling, he kind of liked the way his minds had jumped ahead. It did that as he got older. Sometimes the memories just washed into one another. At this juncture in his life it bothered him—life flashing before his eyes. Yeah? He had to wonder if Kurt saw their lives. 

A picture on the wall behind Kurt’s shoulder caught his eye. Kurt and Blaine standing on the banks of the Hudson River. Rachel took it. Eighty one degrees, wonderful. Lima rarely got to the point of New York humidity. After moving to the, coast Blaine took a while to get accustomed to the difference. In time the dampness of summer no longer bothered him. Like everyone else in the huge city the lovebirds went on with their lives. When they went back to Lima to visit their parents, both mentioned how the summers felt more comfortable. The season before Kurt left for New York held a magical place in Blaine’s heart. Both worked but they learned so much about one another. Day and night they chummed around.

A cool breeze rolled up the Auglaize River. Blaine lay on the grass sunning himself. Kurt sat beside him, fully clothed, under an umbrella reading Vogue. He liked the sun but did not lie out in it. Blaine wanted his body to match the colour of his, all so soft, hands. The contents on the picnic basket behind them had been thinned out over the passage of the afternoon. The boys came down in the morning, tossed a ball about for a while. Blaine caught it and Kurt, mostly chased. Over the past week they had no real alone time. Family stuff rotated around the jobs they had found. At the moment Kurt worked in a coffee shop while Blaine sang at a local amusement park as he had in years past.

“Blaine?” Kurt asks in a quiet tone.

“Yes, Kurt,” Blaine lazily answered. Having hiked his shorts up to his crotch, his skin had a slight reddish hue.

“Do we have to go?”

“We promised.”

“Yeah, but this is so nice.” Kurt placed a hand on Blaine’s shoulder.

Taking the hand, Blaine kissed it. “They’ll be expecting us.”

“But…”

“Kurt, you’ll get what you want.”

“And what is that?”

Blaine took one of Kurt’s fingers and seductively drew it into his mouth. His boyfriend blushed. The dear boy still had issues with showing affection, especially in public. It scared Blaine too but he wanted the whole world to see him with the sexiest boy in town. One afternoon, they happened across Sebastian on the football field. Blaine purposely took Kurt’s hand in front of hundreds of people. The Warbler did not look all that happy. He still flirted but Kurt made Blaine massively happy. After the grandeur of their first night together, both of them fell into a comfortable existence. Their sexual appetites pulled them together even though Kurt insisted on it being scheduled. More than once, Blaine go his hands around Kurt’s lovely member outside the rigid agenda.

Embarrassed, Kurt said in a hushed tone, “Blaine?”

“There’s no one around.” Wicked smile.

“There’s a bunch from Shawnee just around the bend.”

“They’re half a mile away.”

“But…”

“Oh, Kurt, your bashfulness is so hot. I could just…”

“Blaine?” Kurt pulled his hand away.

Closing his eyes, Blaine smiled. “Oh, I how love you my sweet, hung boy.”

Beat red, Kurt turned the page.

Looking up at through the slits of his eyes, Blaine caught his cute boyfriend smile. Ever since they had taken their relationship to the next step, they spoke about more personal things. Finally, Blaine began to understand his lover’s quirks. While he did not like them all, he found most appealing. Kurt even talked Blaine into not shaving his chest. Boys were not supposed to have hair on their chests. Blaine did not really like the thin coating of hair but Kurt loved it and Blaine soon learned the benefits. It stimulated in ways he had not imagined. When they were along, Kurt would ever so gently run light fingers through it. It made Blaine quiver all over. Doggie dog sex moved him beyond measure but there as something about having fingers run so lightly up and down his body that sent him over the top. One afternoon, as they lay together in the privacy of Blaine’s room, Kurt idly payed with the five day old stubble. Blaine twitched away and then he face scrunched as he shot his load in his pants.

The boys stopped at Kurt’s place to clean up before moving on. The former Warbler brought a change of clothes with him then the left for the river in the morning. Burt and Carole welcomed Blaine into the family. Blaine made an impression on Kurt’s father that day he approached him on the subjects his son’s innocence about sex. While, they boys were not officially together at that time it proved Blaine’s commitment to his son.

The boys never stayed the night at each other’s houses except that once. To be assertive and to make a point, Burt sat both of them down. He did not dictate but allowed the two teenagers to work the rules out for themselves. Pam seemed to be more reasonable. She just wanting them to have a safe place to do the thing no one could now prevent. Daniel did not like Kurt nor the fact he caught the two boys holding hands or hugging on more than once. Regardless of appearances, Daniel sometimes let his feeling known. On several occasions Pam stepped in. Lately, Blaine’s father stayed away on Friday nights and Saturdays. He drew the line at Kurt spending the night. The boy always left about ten. For good reason, they spent most of their family time at the Hummel’s. Pam joined them for dinner several times. Daniel continually made excuses.

The lineup at Breadstix worried Kurt, but Blaine just marched right in. Rachel and Finn sat in a booth by the window. Rachel beamed when she saw the boys step past the lady at the door. Pushing Finn out of the way, she went to give Kurt and Blaine hugs. Finn looked a little put out. Blaine shook Finn’s and the two step-brothers hugged. Kurt forced it upon Finn. After all he had a crush on him before marriage made them related. When Blaine first heard, he got jealous. Later, especially after the blow up in front of the punching bag, Blaine learned to appreciate Finn.

Blaine slid into the horseshoe shaped booth first. He instantly took Kurt’s hand as the both boy piled in behind him. Finn gave them with a funny look. Rachel barely noticed. Kurt, well he gave his boyfriend a look. Blaine ignored it. A date meant romance and Blaine did not want to be left out.

“Where’s Samcedes?” Kurt asked. He tried to pull his hand away but relented when Blaine squeezed tighter.

Blaine glanced at his boyfriend. “Kurt?”

“Sam’s probably still getting his hair right,” Rachel commented.

They all chuckled.

Finn busily consumed his second drink when the late arrivals finally showed up. They occupied one end of the horseshoe, Klaine in the middle and Finchel on the end.

“What took you,” Rachel questioned. She wore a light green dress. Slowly she moved away from the nineteen fifties look.

“I was running late,” Sam apologized.

Kurt chuckled. “The dye wasn’t right.”

Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand under the table.

“I don’t dye my hair,” Sam defended himself. He did not look happy.

Mercedes bobbed her head back and forth and looked for the waitress. “You look like you got some sun, Blaine.”

“Maybe a little too much,” Kurt responded.

Blaine playfully replied. “All in the right places.”

Kurt blushed.

“Boys?” Mercedes cooed.

“Do we really…” Finn glanced away.

“Their cute,” Rachel defended the boys. “But you need to take care of yourself in the sun.”

“Yes, mother.” Blaine smiled at Kurt and blew him a kiss. Kurt shied away.

“What did you two get up to today?” Rachel asked Sam. Her eyes followed Kurt’s reaction.

“Finn and I threw a football around for while down at the school. Need to keep the arm in shape.”

“Not that two,” Rachel glanced at Mercedes.

“You ran off at lunch, Sam,” Finn threw in without thinking.

Mercedes shrank into the bench.

“You sang to her again.” Rachel pressed.

Blaine tried not to roll his eyes. Rachel might have great voice and talent but she did not understand where a line should be drawn. Like most conceded people, it had to be all about her.

Shaking his head, Sam admitted, “Yes, I sang to Mercedes, again.”

Rachel beamed. Finn made a face. Blaine and Kurt glanced at one another.

“He has a nice voice,” Mercedes stated.

“What is everyone going to do for the summer,” Kurt suddenly blurt out. The manner in which his fingers tightened about Blaine spoke of his discomfort.

“I got a job at Five Flags,” Blaine announced. Even though he adored his wonderful boyfriend?

“You worked there last year,” Finn muttered.

“And the year before. Hope I don’t have to play the singing pirate this year.” Blaine sipped his pop.

“Hot. I have to see that,” Kurt beamed at his endearing boyfriend.

Blaine shrunk back. Under the table he rubbed his thumb over Kurt’s baby soft hand  
.  
“We can make an afternoon of it,” Rachel called out.

Finn gave Sam a look.

“I’m spending my time getting ready for NYADA,” Rachel proudly announced. “Defying Gravity is great, or something from Yentl, Maybe Funny Lady. I really don’t know.”

“You’ll need a partner,” excited, Kurt jumped right in. He suddenly looked at Blaine.

Weakly smiling, Blaine’s chest tighten. A few weeks ago at a session with Emma Pillsbury, the school counselor, helped talk them out of their first real moment of heartbreak. For Blaine it centered about NYADA. The texting became a sorry side effect.

“But then,” Kurt seemed to deflate. “I’ll be working at the Limabean.”

Blaine squeezed his lover’s hand. Kurt reciprocated.

Finn looked a little upset all of sudden. His heart broke. Blaine noticed but Rachel just went on about New York. Kurt got into it. Mercedes and Sam stated to look at one another with goo-goo eyes leaving Blaine and Finn to speak footballs. The night went on this way as dinner came and went.

“What’s next,” Finn asked as the waitress cleared the plates.

“There’s a sing along at the park,” Rachel enthusiastically said.

Kurt got excited. “Sound of Music is the best.”

“We can go to Bumpers,” Sam suggested.

“Bumpers?” Rachel asked. Her voice had a hardness to it.

“It’s a new underage dance place on the south side of downtown,” Mercedes eagerly replied.

Rachel’s eyebrows went up. “You’ve been there before?”

Sam blushed. “Yes.”

“It’s a fun place and no alcohol.” Mercedes chimed up.

“What do you think?” Blaine asked Kurt.

“But the Sound of Music sing along,” Kurt whined.

“I think it would be fun.” Finn glanced at Rachel. “Would you like to go dancing?”

The blossoming lady beamed. Finn smiled.

Kurt let out a puff of air. He conceded defeat. “Okay.”

“I’ve wanted to dance with you since….” Blaine cut himself off.

“Since?” Rachel pushed.

Blaine bristled. Things did not go too well the last time. He presses his fingers into Kurt’s knowing he may have gone too far. They made a covenant they would not speak about that night.

A little while later, the three couples walked into Bumpers. The hulking, imposing black doorman occupied most of the entrance. He consistently checked their identifications enforcing the fourteen to nineteen year old age limit. A long bar ran along one wall. Raised boxes sat in the corners of the dance floor where two dozen teens jumped about. Lights flashed across the walls, ceiling and floors. Several gaggles of boys and girls stood about. Loud music pounded into everyone’s chests. The place could fit about three hundred.

“This isn’t exactly Scandals,” Kurt pointed out to Blaine.

So much for their pact. Blaine just let it go. “No drag queens, disappointing.”

“Drag queens?” Finn questioned.

Rachel gave Kurt an odd look. “Scandals?”

“It’s a gay bar on the other side of town,” Blaine answered without thinking. Finn gave Kurt an odd look. Kurt shrunk away. Rachel and Mercedes stared at one other. Sam seemed amused.

“Let’s not get into it,” Kurt saved his lovely boyfriend.

“What exactly….” Rachel started.

Taking her hand, Finn cut Rachel off. “Let’s dance.”

Nice save. Blaine felt suddenly relieved.

Waving at a few peoples, Mercedes took Sam’s hand and pulled him toward the dance floor behind Finchel. Suddenly she stopped and looked back. Kurt and Blaine just stood there. Blaine felt oddly uncomfortable. She said, “Hey guys.”

Finn and Rachel turned about. Making a face, Finn asked Kurt, “What’s up bro?”

Blaine looked at Kurt. A frown pulled his lips. Blaine wanted to dance. It just felt awkward.

“Well?” Finn asked again.

Blaine looked passed the Finn toward the dance floor. He said in all sincerity, “Do you think they’ll let us dance?”

“Of course,” Rachel said.

Kurt looked at Blaine who felt a finger brush against his. He said, “As a couple.”

“Oh?” Mercedes looked to Sam.

“Come off it,” Sam stepped forward. “We go out there as a group and just bounce around each other like we are just friends and nothing else.”

Finn gave the blond boy a look.

Kurt shrugged and Blaine playfully smiled. Together the six of them hit the dance floor. An hour later, nearly two hundred teenagers packed the place. In the middle of it, a throng of six boogied about in one corner of the dance floor. The boys strutted their stuff about and the ladies loved it. Arms waving in the air, they sang to the music.

It all worked out well until a group of teenaged boys nosily filed into through the front door with a flock of girls. They yelled and screamed as the pushed their way to the dance floor. Hogging the center they took over.

A few moments later, Kurt backed into a tall blond fellow wearing a Shawee football shirt. Spinning around his face went suddenly from ‘I am going to beat you up’ to amused. He yelled to his gang of sycophants, “Hey, look. The faggot from the river.”

Shocked, Kurt stopped in his tracks. On the other side of Rachel, Blaine stepped around to defend Kurt. How dare someone speak to him that away? Anger flared.

Finn stepped out in front of Blaine headed to his step brother. Separated from the rest of the party by two girls dancing with themselves, Sam and Mercedes stared.

“More faggots.” The football player sneered.

“They’ll let anyone in here,” a petite Chinese girls proclaimed.

“Fuck’n fag, go find some hole to hide in,” another Shawee football player growled at Kurt. He then laughed.

“Queens and queers,” another, large framed boy called out as he joined his friends. He pushed the gorgeous brunette he danced with aside.

“Look here,” Blaine danced about Finn so he now stood beside Kurt. His boyfriend stood there with a huge ogre standing over him.

“Hey, guys, it’s the faggot’s faggot,” the blond Shawee quarterback laughed.

Pushing forward, Finn menacingly towered over Blaine and Kurt.

One of the other Shawee guys said, “Look, the queer quarterback of McKinley.”

One of the other Shawee footballers said to Finn, “You going to dance to win your second game, faggot!”

“Those must be lesbians.” One girl else joked. She pointed at Rachel and Mercedes.

Finn lost it. Raising his first, the Shawee quarterback moved faster. His arm came up swinging at the shorter man in front of him. Finn grabbed Blaine’s shoulder pulling him back. The large fist smashed into Kurt’s cheek sending him spinning to the floor. The gang from Shawee laughed and cheered. A couple of the girls looked mortified.

The bouncer rushed forward pushing himself thought the crowd gathered about the floor. The lights came up and the music sided. From behind the bar, another man ran into the fray. Someone else came out from a back room.

In instinct Blaine threw a fist into the quarterback’s chest. The football easily side stepped and took a swing at Blaine who fluidly bounced away. The little guy took on a fighter’s stance.

Rachel, Sam and Mercedes pushed forward to Kurt pulling him away from the growing melee. Blood splotched the polished wooden floor. Kurt held his hand against his cheek. Tears well up in his eyes.

One of the Shawee footballers laughed. “The little faggot’s crying,”

Blaine stepped toward massive linebacker. Rage pulsed in his veins but he controlled himself. If he stooped to their level he would be no better.

“The little faggot’s got spunk,” the linebacker barked as he turned to face Blaine.

“I will show you spunk, asshole,” Blaine stood in a boxer pose ready to spring. Finn and then Sam stepped up beside him.

“Break it up,” a deep voice yelled from the off to the right. The bouncer came into view. A huge man positioned himself between the two groups. One bartender and the owner joined the bouncer.

The Shawee quarterback growled, “You let fuck’n faggots in here.”

“Yeah, I’m here to see you shake the flat ass of yours,” Blaine yelled.

“Blaine?” Kurt called from the floor. Rachel pressed her handkerchief to his cheek.

Turning, Blaine’s anger abruptly diminish. Seeing his love kneeling between his best two gal pals, pulled at his heart. Then he saw Kurt’s eyes set on the quarterback. Suddenly he turned around as if he realized something. “You’re Nick.”

“Yeah, what ‘a going to make of if faggot.”

“Bigoted Asshole!” Blaine stepped closer.

The Shawee quarterback mirrored the motion. The bouncer put his arm our blocking the way.

“None of that,” owner growled.

Nick looked to the middle aged man. Blaine’s blood boiled. He growled, “I hope you are upset you homophonic prig. David lived.”

“The fucker should have died?” Nick barked.

“Hey, that’s enough. Now out with you,” the bouncer yelled at Nick.

“Hey, they’re the faggots?” Nick stood up to the big black man.

“So is my brother, you little pussy. Unless you want me to toss your virgin ass out that door, you get the hell out of here and don’t come back,” bouncer snarled. The more muscular of the two bartenders backed his co-worker up.

Nick bristled and looked like he was about to take the bartender on. Then a then a small hand fell on his bicep. Looking down a beautiful blond girl angrily stared up at him. The tough bully shrunk down, then suddenly turned. At the last second he swung back and glared at Blaine, “You haven’t seen the end of me, faggot.”

“Bring is on,” Blaine’s fist curled up.

“Out!” the bounced roared.

“What about them?” one of the other Shawee football players harshly asked.

“Out, before I call the police,” the owner growled.

The throng from Shawee turned and left with four staff right behind them. The little blond girl glanced back at Kurt who huddled on the floor between Rachel and Mercedes. Her eyes apologized.

Drawing in a deep breath, Blaine shook. He had never even tried hit anyone in life outside the ring. For a moment he felt numb and then emotion took over. Running, he slid to his knees beside Kurt.  
Rachel looked up and reassured Blaine. “It’s just a scratch. He must have had a ring on.”

Without thinking, Blaine took Kurt’s face in his hands and passionately kissed him. Astonished on lookers clapped and cheered. Kurt and Blaine danced the rest of the night away as lovers should, in each other’s arms.


	10. Leaving

Tomorrow Burt would drive his son to the airport and he would be gone. The sentiment did not settle well with Blaine. His stomach turned summersaults and his nerves tingled under his skin. Ever since he told Kurt he needed to spread his wings, Blaine regretted it. His heart sank and it sometimes took hours to get to sleep. Deep down he knew it had to be. Seeing Kurt at the Limabean and mopping around McKinley ate at both the souls. Blaine had no illusions tough days hovered just around the corner but Kurt filled him in more ways than one. The way he walked turned Blaine on. The look when the boy found himself embarrassed, cheered sunken spirits. Yes, selfish could describe him, but then who could avoid the word. Blaine knew he could not. 

Blaine woke feeling terribly apprehensive. Burt and Carole arranged a going away dinner. Kurt wanted it to invite the gang but Burt insisted on just family. This, obviously, included the Andersons. The fact his father found an excuse, did not surprise Blaine. 

The two lovebirds spent most of the day with their friends. It started in a café and then moved onto one of the local parks. They laughed and told stories regardless of the air of sadness hovering over them like storm clouds. Blaine did not want to let go of Kurt. He held his hand everywhere, slipped his arm about him or just held him close. Kurt eagerly reciprocated. A subdued melancholy affected them both. Yes, they talked and had no illusions of what faced them. Kurt would go find Rachel and Blaine, well, he had to go back to suffer through another year of high school. They blocked off times for Skype. Blaine planned for a trip once a month. Money hindered him. He did not have a lot of it and Daniel would not flip the bill for him to run off for a weekend of hot, boy sex. As the hours ticked by, Blaine fretted what a year apart would feel like. 

Kurt dropped Blaine of at his place. The boys sat there in the car for a while holding hands. Blaine’s hand trembled.

“It won’t be that bad,” Kurt gazed at his beautiful boyfriend.

A puff of air escaped Blaine’s lips. “This is…going to be so…hard.”

“You make me hard.” Impish grin.

Squeezing his lover’s hand, Blaine’s head droop. Emotion filled his voice. “Thank you.”

“Blaine, I love you. Nothing is going to change that.”

“I love you too, Kurt. I always well. But…”

“No buts, Blaine. You will always be in my life. Besides you’re coming over for dinner.”

“I know but it...”

Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine melting unsettling feelings. Pressing into the firmness of the kiss, Blaine did not want to let go but he had too. Pulling away he attacked his boyfriend with a multitude of little kisses. Finally, he pushed on the door handle. Sad, puppy eyes stared at Kurt as he got out of Carole’s car. Kurt sold his to have enough money to live on while looking for work. The car did not move right away. Kurt sat there gazing at Blaine. Then the engine roared and Blaine’s heart fell.

Turning, Blaine’s heart froze. His father stood there in the garage leering. Holding back tears, Blaine squared his shoulders. The look on Daniel’s face told his son everything. At this point the son did not care. In two hours he would be at the Hummel’s proudly celebrating Kurt’s big move. It stood as a chance for his father to finally show he could be a caring dad. Blaine saw odious excuses.

His mother opened the door. She looked to her husband and said something. His face went hard and he abruptly went back to sorting tools. 

To everyone’s surprise Cooper called. Hearing his eldest son’s name Daniel picked up the kitchen phone cutting in. Amazingly, his eldest son told his father he had called to speak to Blaine and only Blaine. This stunned his little brother. 

Settling in on the couch, Blaine curled his legs up underneath him. The older brother droned on about the movie shot. Regardless, hearing Cooper’s voice made him feel much better. Emotion touched his voice and he know his brother could hear it. Then raised voices intruded on them. Pam argued with her husband. The words coming from the kitchen did not surprise either child. A slamming door marked the end of an awkward moment. 

“Blaine, don’t let him get to you,” Cooper’s passion echoed over the phone breaking the silence.

Hesitating, Blaine looked to the silent kitchen. He suddenly understood his mother had arranged Cooper’s call. Warmth swelled in his chest.

“Are you alright, Blaine?” the older brother asked.

Hesitation and then Blaine said, “Coop, I don’t know what to think? It’s…so….”

“My little brother’s really in love.”

“I adore him.”

“I saw that when met him. He is a special person. Maybe a little odd, but special.”

Blaine laughed and his mood brightened. “Coop, I needed that.”

“Dad’s making it hell, right?” Cooper’s voice had a hint of anger.

An audibly heavy breath roared through Blaine’s nostrils. “He hates Kurt. He hates me.”

“I might have an ego of the Empire State Building, but I’m not blind. I saw lots when I was there last. God’s what an ass.” Cooper fell silent as if he spoke to someone else. “Blaine, I do not have all that much time left. I have a big scene coming up.”

“Kill them,” Blaine demanded of his brother.

“You’ve found someone to love and I mean really love. I live in a town where people change lovers like underwear and wow, you two ooze it. This thing you two have is the real thing transgressing distance and time. You will make it, Blaine. It may not always be easy but you two will make it. I‘ve not always been a good brother but listen to me now. Don’t let him go, little brother.”

Tears ran down Blaine’s face. He looked up to see Pam standing in the door. Red eyed, she cried for a different reason. Sniffling Blaine said, “Cooper, I…”

“Blaine, listen. I’ll make you a deal. Make your life with your sweetie, kill them on Broadway and I will be in the front row cheering. Just remember you have a brother how loves you for who you are and what you are. No one can take that away. Just tell the old man to fuck off.” Cooper paused again. Blaine could hear voiced in the back ground. “Kurt, I have to go. If you ever need me, call. If you need somewhere to live, I have a couch. You and Kurt will always be welcome at my door.”

Beaming, Blaine said in a shaky voice, “Thanks big bro, you’re the best.”

Click. Typical Cooper, no goodbye. 

Blaine stared at the house phone and then up at his mother. Tears streamed down his cheeks. Pam came over and cradled her son.

Years later, Blaine recounted that conversation at his famous brother’s funeral. In the modern age, he held onto Kurt’s hand and glanced at his watch. Bad traffic would delay Mary. Twenty minutes. He wanted more. A tear rolled down his cheek. Back then he wished his dad could have found the bravery to be a true father. His son knew he had lots of years for celebrating to endure but in that moment, the dinner hovered on his soul as the most important thing in his life. Pam knew this and tenderly comforted her son. 

Two hours later, Pam and Blaine stood on the threshold of the Hummel residence. She held her son’s nervous hand. The ringing of the doorbell seared through Blaine’s heart. He had been on pins and needles the ever since they left the house. Daniel did not even bother to look up as they got into the car. Could he do this? His heart soared even if the seas they navigated hurt so much. Yes, he intended to make the best of it including wearing one of Kurt’s favour Blaine outfits. Regardless of a warm September night, he wore a dark blue blazer with a mustard coloured vest over a dark green shirt. The red, blue and yellow bowtie Kurt has given him for his birthday almost choked him. To his mother’s wonder he had not gelled his hair down into a helmet. Instead, it fluffed up in a controlled style. The night of Kurt’s senior prom, Brittany forced him to wash the gel out. The look on Kurt’s face had been horror at first and then pride. As scared as Blaine had been, gently, loving words gave him confidence. That night, they made love in a most unconventional place. 

Kurt’s smiling face appeared in the crack in the door. With a squeal he threw himself at Blaine giving him a huge hug. Pam stood there holding a bottle of wine with a loving smile on her face. Just inside the door, Burt and Carole stood there with their arms wrapped around one another. Peeling herself away from Burt, Carole greeted Pam taking the wine and giving her a gentle hug. Burt stood there welcoming their guest as he tried to herd them from the doorway. 

Lively chattered filled the kitchen. All the best parties ended up there. Streaks dripped juices onto hot coals. A fresh salad waited in the fridge. Kurt spent part of the afternoon making dainty finger foods and an interestingly tasting punch. He chose music which the two boys sang. Pam and Carole puttered about in the kitchen quietly talking. They both looked to the boys with serious faces. At some point Burt joined in but the boys did not seem to notice. Lost in one another they but on brave faces though Blaine knew they died inside. Excited to go, Kurt could not hide his fear from Blaine.

“Kurt, you’ll have a great time,” Blaine bravely commented. The two walked to the end of the backyard holding hands. Kurt wore a patterned grey shirt with an off white vest and bright green pants. He looked dreamingly hot.

“Will Rachel be happy to see me,” Kurt’s voice shook.

Blaine looked surprised. “You’re not told her?”

Kurt shook his head. 

“Kurt…Well think of the surprise. She has been putting on a valiant face but you can hear it in her voice. She lonely and scared.”

“I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”

“I would love to be there.”

Kurt turned to Blaine drawing him into a hug. “I wish I could pack you in my suitcase.”

The fussy haired boy grinned. “I’d fit.”

Kurt chuckled and then kissed his lover. “You’re so cute. Oh, how I love you.”

“You told me once you would never say goodbye…this isn’t goodbye, is it?”  
“God’s no, Blaine, never. You fill me in ways I can’t imagine.”

Evil grin. “Later.”

Kurt blushed and then leaned in for a kiss. Arms wrapped around each other. The boys shook.

“Kurt, I have something for you.” Blaine reached into his pocket.

“Another promise ring,” Kurt bounced about.

“No.” Blaine handed his boyfriend a little jeweler’s box.

Holding his breath, Kurt stared at Blaine. He looked afraid for a moment but after he opened it he beamed. Inside the little white box sat a simple golden stylized pin. A small diamond glistened where the letters ‘KB’ scrolled into one another. Lips quivering, Kurt threw his arms about Blaine drawing him into passionate kiss.

As they slowly twirled about, Blaine felt Kurt fiddling with his pocket. He thought, not here. Instead he pulled out a small velvet pouch and handed it to Blaine. The shorter boys smiled. “Oh, Kurt, you didn’t have to.”

“Neither did you but…” Warm smile. “Blaine you’re everything to me. I hope you know that?”

“Every inch of me knows.”

“Now, there’s an idea.”

Blushing, Blaine looked at the little pouch. Pulling at the string he dumped the contents into his hand. A golden bracelet fell into his palm. Smiling, Blaine leaned his head into Kurt’s, “It’s lovely.”

Picking it up, Kurt placed it around Blaine’s right wrist. “This is for my love. I promise to love you always. To always remember your birthday. To give you flowers on Valentine’s Day. To answer your every call and to send you dirty pictures…”

“Of you?”

“Of me.”

“Kurt, your surprise me.”

“Blaine, you once told me I moved you. Well, you are the summit of my mountain. When I look up at the moon I see your eyes.”

Once more the boys hugged, their lips searching. 

“Boys...dinner,” Burt called from the deck. The adults moved about the outdoor table setting thigs down.

Both looked to the house and then smiled. Taking the pin out, Kurt placed it on his vest just over his heart. Grasping Blaine’s hand, they walked toward the table and sat next to one another. Their parents settled in about them. It looked like the jury watched from across the table. Burt at one end, Carole at the other and Pam across from the two boys. Everything seemed serious as Burt poured wine for them all. Kurt looked to his father who did not respond.

Before anyone could reach for their glasses, Blaine picked his up and said, “To Kurt, may all your dreams come true in New York.”

Kurt beamed, his face flushed. 

“To Kurt,” the adults said as their glasses gently tapped. Blaine pressed his boyfriend’s hand under the table. 

Hazel eyes fell upon the teen next to him. Holding the gaze Blaine soaked every last inch of Kurt into him. The hair over his ears, the scar on his neck and the way his nose twitched when he laughed became hard coded. Keeping a brave face, he already missed Kurt. Tomorrow that hand would be gone. That smiles would become an image on a screen. He stealthily secured a few articles of Kurt’s unwashed clothing so he could remember his scent. He hid them in a drawer inside a plastic bag. Yes, he thought it a bit weird but . . . he did not know what to think. He wanted to bury himself in Kurt but knew he could not. 

A foot touching his under the table made the Blaine blink. His mother gave him a tiny smile and Blaine melted. She had been there for him through the end of August. His father loved the idea of the two boys being split up. He thought Blaine could finally get past this phase and find himself a nice girl. Blaine spat back at that one creating a huge mess. Daniel almost hit him again, but Pam stood firm. Dad slept away from home for three nights. 

He hated what tomorrow night would bring. His dad beaming in victory and a lonely bed. Even though he would be with Rachel, Blaine knew Kurt would be as sad as he would be. The excitement of the day would have worn off as reality set in. Blaine did not understand what to do while he anxiously waited for the appointed hour and their first skype meeting. Cooper said he would call and Mercedes, Sam, Kitty and Tina planned to drag Blaine out to get his mind off things.

“Hey,” someone called from the kitchen. “Good, I didn’t miss it.”

“Finn?” Kurt blurted out. 

“Hey bro, the beginning of your life,” Finn trotted forward giving his sitting step brother a big hug from behind.

Blaine watched. Finn put on a brave face but he missed Rachel. It showed every minute of the day. Blaine wondered if he would have the same mournful face in the morning. He wanted to go to the airport but chemistry and math tests blocked his ambitions. For a moment he wondered what the year alone would bring. Running his thumb across the back of Kurt’s hand, he pushed the thought away.

Slapping Burt on the shoulder and then scooting down to hug his mom, Finn suddenly turned back to Blaine. Pulling him up, he drew Blaine into a bear hug. Bending down, he whispered into the shorter teenager’s ear, “We’ll survive this together.”

The words shocked Blaine. He and Finn grew to like one another but he never expected such sentiment. All he could do was to slap Finn on the back. 

While still holding on to Blaine. Finn placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Kurt, Blaine, I have learned so much from you two. That night in Bumpers…”

Burt flashed Finn a look.

“…If anyone bugs you again I’ll be the first in their face.” Finn finished. His father’s flew right over Finns head. Blaine caught it. 

“Me, second,” Pam put her hand up.

“We all will,” Carole added.

Letting Blaine go, Finn stepped around the table, hugged Pam and sat. Burt topped up his wine glass. Picking it up, Finn looked at Kurt and smiled. “To my brother from another mother. I love you bro.”

“Kurt,” everyone responded.

Finn added, “And to Blaine, you are a good friend and much more to Kurt. Strength and courage.”

Kurt and Blaine exchanged looks as glassed clinked. Dinner rolled on through easy stages. The conversation circled around New York and Rachel’s latest stories. Finn talked to her less than an hour before. Thus his tardiness. He assured Kurt he said nothing to her. None of their friends had.

“Kurt, your mother and have a little something for you.” Burt interrupted the casual conversation. He handed his son an envelope. 

Taking it, Kurt turned it over.

“It’s an open ended return ticket.”

“Dad?”

“Kurt, New York is a big place and is not for everyone. If you don’t like it your bed will always be here regardless of your sticky notes.”

Kurt laughed. A tear glistened in the corner of his eye.

Burt amused everyone by telling stories of Kurt when he first caught him playing with his mom’s cloths. Kurt blushed and people laughed. When he thought it had to do with the fact Kurt missed his mom. It did not take long to figure out the truth. Life became hard for the boy’s father. He had to man up as Finn would say. His son blazed his own path and then it veered off on a different path. The testament to that wide left hand turn sat beside Kurt holding his hand under the table. Blaine became a member of the family. Old Blaine recalled the sex talk in the garage, the joys of children and a break up. Burt flying Blaine to New York for Christmas and the news he shared sealed the bond. The one chat Blaine remembered the most came in the form of an innocent conversation the day of their wedding. Over time, Burt became the father Blaine never had.

The evening drew on. Blaine’s heart grew tighter as the hour of doom drew near. Seven in the morning would come too soon. Gradually, the boys drifted into long bouts of silent. Sorrow shown in lovely blue eyes. It made Blaine want to cry but he would not allow it. The actor stiffly took over. Then Pam stood and Carole walked her to the door. Looking at Kurt, Blaine awkwardly drew himself up. Kurt automatically came up with him. Both boys looked miserable.

“Blaine, sit,” Pam suddenly said. Her eyes shone brightly with firm intent.

Stopped in his tracks, Blaine stared. 

Proud of her son, Pam strolled over and gave him huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. Looked to Kurt, she gave him a tender kiss on the forehead. Turning back she said, “Blaine, my gift to you and Kurt is this night together. Burt and Carole have graciously consented to allow the two of you to spend the night. I will be by in the morning to drive you to school.”

Blaine just stared. His hand tightened about Kurt’s. Then he looked to Burt. He stood there nodded with a warm smile on his face. Awkward moments followed. Kurt hugged Pam at the door shedding tears all over her blouse. Blaine hugged his mother as only a son could and then kissed her. She patted him on the cheek and fondly looked at him. When she turned to leave, Blaine knew she went home to another fight. The looks from Burt and Carole said they knew.

No one spoke about it, but the hint came when Finn said he needed to get some sleep. The ex-football player drew his brother and Blaine into a group hug before climbing the stairs. Burt and Carole followed not long after. They looked back at the boys sitting on the couch facing one another. Blaine noticed Carole stop. She wiped her eyes. Burt pulled her close. 

Elderly Blaine remembered the two sitting there for a while hugging and holding hands. Neither spoke. The eyes said everything. Finally, Kurt stood dragging Blaine with him. In loving silence they retreated to Kurt’s bed where they relived a special moment – there first time together.


	11. Regrets and Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the producers, music coordinators, actors and musicians of Glee. Music is part of the story taking it to levels hard to achieve.
> 
> Please note: Love Cycles 2 literally splits chapter 11 in two. I have inserted a marker in this chapter to note where the split will occur. When I originally started writing Love Cycles, I thought, at the time, the TV story covered off the story well. However, when reading my work and watching Glee again, there is more I have to say about the events following Blaine and Kurt's break up, through to their marriage and to the birth of their children.

_What have I done?_  
_I wish I could run,_  
_Away from this ship going under…_

 The words drifted about Blaine’s head. The song represented lose. The bitter sweet moment had been offset by Kurt entering his life. Head drooping, regret filled his being.

  _What can you do when your good isn’t good enough_  
_And all that you touch tumbles down?_

 They, he and…the name conjured up tears…lost to Rachel and her stunning voice. She killed it leaving the boys…one now lost forever…well…in the sense of the heart…staring in awe. The event turned over and over in his mind until the cold forced him to move. Tucking the tails of his coat under his butt, Blaine sat back down on the huge rock on the banks of the river. Caught in a haze, he absently watched the water rushing by.

  _Cause my best intentions_  
_Keep making a mess of things,_  
_I just wanna fix it somehow_

 An icy burst raced down from the north causing Blaine to pull his scarf close about his neck. Within the morass of his mind he saw a cloak flowing in the wind. A man in his thirties leaned against a tree. Blank, vanquished eyes gazed upon green field and out onto the turbulent ocean. The fresh wound of unwanted lose flashed across his sad, unshaven face. The stamp of time edged lines into his heart just as it did Blaine. Each little tick became the impatient tapping of a stick against a wooden wheel. A few yards down the opposite slope, a servant stood close to the carriage. Within the trees, a mile back in the hills, the tower of a large house rose into the gloomy sky. Barely moving lips whispered of the agony he felt.

  _Cause my best intentions_  
_Keep making a mess of things,_  
_I just wanna fix it somehow_  
_But how many times will it take?_

 A shudder ran up Blaine’s body. Looking down at the water he blinked. The melody rolled through him like some wraithlike memory. It spoke to the teenager and a man in the reality of their tortured, shattered hearts. Somewhere in the consuming darkness lingered a tiny bead of light. Some aspect of their love held and like a seed stretched to the sun.

After that dreadful night, Blaine ran back to Lima. Unlike Finn, respect and a faint shimmer of optimism held him there a little while longer. Rachel sort of sympathized, but Kurt, he would have none of it. Broken, Blaine left with his tail between his legs dragging his carryon bag behind him. Alone, he sat in the local park for an hour silently sinking into the misery of his dissolving life. When first drop of rain feel, he finally phoning his mother. Other than hello, the only words to roll off his tongue announced his split with Kurt. A few hours later, Pam waited for him at the airport. Pulling him close she smothered her grieving child into the blanket only a mother could hold. Blaine never revealed what really happened until the day Sam comforted him.

Mopping around, not eating or sleeping, Blaine had no desire to do anything. Even music would not shake him out of it. Pam kept him home from school for the rest of the week. Daniel said little but his face told a triumphant story. Mother and father argued. Wallowing in a state of abject misery, Blaine heard little of it. Everything whirled within looming darkness and devastated dreams.

Lost, Blaine barely responded to the events about him. Curled up under a comforter, he hugged a pillow believing it to be Kurt. Blank eyes stared hopelessly at a picture beside his bed. Down the hall he heard indistinct words. Then his door swung and someone sat on the bed. A hand lightly pressed down upon his sunken shoulder.

Footsteps clomped up the hall. A hand banged against the wood and his father said, “Come away. Let the little pussy mop. Maybe it will….”

“For god’s sakes, dad,” Cooper’s words echoed with Blaine’s head. Something within his heart twanged.

“He’s just a fa…”

"Just fuck right off.”

“You can’t…”

“Get out!” Blaine sensed the loathing in Cooper’s growl.

The door slammed and then that same hand began to gently stroke Blaine’s shoulder. Someone leaned closer and then the younger brother heard his older sibling whispered, “Oh, my little Blaine, I’m here.”

Blaine looked up with tired, red eyes. Taking his older brother in his arms, he cried for the first time. The lock on Blaine’s soul released.

Brothers drew closer, his father grew more distant and his mother worried. Cooper stuck around for a week. Ignoring the demands of excited teenagers and that insufferable Sue, Cooper helped his brother through his first days back at school. Together the brothers endured kind platitudes, heart filled hugs and awkward moments of silence. In time Blaine set his mind on his classes. Little that did. He stumbled along. He tried to sing but the words only filtered away into his easy despair.

Before Cooper left, the brothers went to the river at Blaine’s insistence. Side by side, they sat on the same rock Blaine sat on now.

“Is this a good idea?” Cooper asked. He glanced about.

His head resting in his hands, Blaine responded, “Coop, I have to start somewhere.”

“You sure?”

“We wasted the summer here. It was wonderful.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes”

“Blaine, maybe you should come to LA for a while.”

“Thank you, but you have your life and I have to get on with mine.”

“Blaine, you do not have to be brave for me.”

Blaine presses his a hand into his nose lowering his head.

 

An older brother wrapped an arm about his younger sibling and pulled himself.

Blaine trembled for a long moment and then glanced at Cooper. “Believe me, this is good pain. I want to remember the good things.”

‘You still love him.”

“Yes.” Blaine softly admitted. A tear rolled out of his eye.

The brother held the peace for a long moment and then Cooper asked, “Do you believe in true love?”

“I thought I did.”

Cooper touched his brother over heart. “What does this tell you?”

Blaine hesitated and glanced up into the cloudy sky. For a moment he saw that man on the hill. Older he looked into the eyes of a man of a similar age. They held hands and smiled.

“Blaine?”

“Yes, Cooper, believe in true love.”

“Is Kurt your true love?”

“Yes.”

Cooper presses his shoulder into his younger brother and then drew him close again. “Then give it time, Blaine.”

Smiling, Blaine’s head affectionately fell against Coopers shoulder.

Blaine shifted on the cold boulder. He suffered from numb butt. Since his brother left, he came to the river almost every day. Sometime Sam or Mercedes would come to him but he liked to be alone. The peace of the place allowed him to sort through a mass of conflicting stuff. Here, Cooper finally pulled him back into the light allowing complex emotions to filter themselves. The bonds two boys built that summer lingered all around. The haunting feeling made Blaine feel whole, or as whole as possible. He considered his sanity and that spectral man who came to him. In the end he decided only faith in his own heart would sustain him.

Looking up, Blaine noted a shaft of bright sunlight escaping a grey clouds. Striking the water, a mournful boy held his breath. It twinkling on the bubbling waves lifting Blaine’s sunken heart. Fear faded and that old inner strength returned. Lifting his head Blaine’s voice echoed out into the quiet forest.

 

_Oh, how many times will it take for me to get it right, to get it right?_

 

 _Can I start again, with my faith shaken?_  
_Cause I can’t go back and undo this_  
_I just have to stay and face my mistakes,_  
_But if I get stronger and wiser, I’ll get through this_

 

 _What can you do when your good isn’t good enough?_  
_And all that you touch tumbles down?_  
_Cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things,_  
_I just wanna fix it somehow_  
_But how many times will it take?_  
_Oh, how many times will it take for me to get it right?_

 

 _So I throw up my fist, throw a punch in the air,_  
_And accept the truth that sometimes life isn’t fair!_  
_Yeah, I’ll send out a wish, yeah, I’ll send up a prayer_  
_And finally someone will see how much I care_

 

 _What can you do when your good isn’t good enough?_  
_And all that you touch tumbles down?_  
_Cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things,_  
_I just wanna fix it somehow_  
_But how many times will it take?_  
_Oh, how many times will it take, to get it right?_  
_To get it right?_

 

When the song faded away, Blaine folded his arms across his chest. Tears streaming down his cheeks. For the first time in a month a real, honest smile stretched his lips. Two nights of Grease left. Seeing Kurt last night almost killed him. On stage he almost lost it when their eyes locked. His heart skipped and then Kurt looked away. Enough, for a split second, Blaine stared past the pain into those blue eyes to see the love struggling beneath. He could do this.

The fibers of hope stitched up the wounds of a heavy heart. It allowed Blaine a moment of sudden clarity. Kurt lived within his chest. With every beat of his heart, the lovely boy flowed through his veins. The sadness of a man who lived a life long before Blaine’s birth held the key. The love of his life had been forced away by the demands of family. For both, pity, lose and sorrow, engulfed a truth that had retreated behind the pain. Simple words lifted in the wind freed them both. That man never gave up. Blaine would never give up.

 

 

**(At this point Love Cycles Part 2 begins. The end of the last chapter of Love Cycle Part 2 will continue along in this story starting with the paragraph below).**

 

 

Even now, with the love of his life slumping upon the pillow beside him, old Blaine’s veins pumped pure emotion. Burt had it right. Life would not always be easy. Kurt’s quick hang ups and dropped calls fueled a feeling of lose. On that day, Blaine found the strength, he knew that mess belonged squarely on his shoulders. Weakness of body overpowered the strength of the heart. Youth and school did not prepare for life’s stark realities. Parents protected their kids, sometimes to an extreme. The school system ran away from the truth of life – sex, love, its horrible side effects and wonderful ends. Murphy’s Law prevailed in that place adults found uncomfortable. In the aftermath of his wild imagination, young Blaine learned all of that and more. His mom tried, his father did not care and his brother spilled in and out of his life like a wave hitting the beach. Blaine had slipped on life’s banana peel into quagmire of challenges no one had prepared him for.

The events of his senior year and the two that follow proved helpful later in life. In their mid-twenties, the happy couple welcomed the turmoil the twins introduced to their environment. Alex and Kate took the fore front in their overly extended life. One took the kids in the morning and the other in the afternoon with evenings being a family affair. A quarter of a year before the twins turned two, Rachel gave birth to a baby girl. At the months rolled on, the half-brother and sisters spent weekend together and later played at the Broadway Performers Association’s daycare. Now that the twins pushed past four year old milestone, the couple found they had more free time. Breathing a sigh of relief they hoped normalcy would return.

Pushing thirty, careers moved forward in steady steps. The Anderson-Hummel Production Company prepared for the launch of its second major production. The first, while not wildly popular, played Off Broadway for almost a year garnering the duo a certain measure of notoriety. They took on a project many considered too much of a risk. That peril paid off in the most unexpected manner, a Tony nomination. While they did not win, it proved the dream could be achieved. At the same time, they took a chance on NYADA talking Madam Tibideaux into making the experience part of the school’s outreach program. Now, with their second big production looming, NYADA signed on with little hesitation.

This production placed Blaine and Kurt in different roles where before they allowed others to take the limelight. While both preformed the leads, Blaine worked on the music, helped audition actors and coordinated with NYADA. Kurt sat through auditions, worked on sets and costumes design. When everything moved to the theatre, things got really hectic. During the working day, Kurt and Blaine managed by sneaking off for quick coffees or a brief walk around the block. Some days they would not see each other until the picked up the children. They always did that together. Late at night, they would cuddle and if not too tired, did something a little more energetic.

One day, while sitting on the subway on his way to the daycare, Blaine’s cell buzzed with an incoming text. Kurt asked him to meet him at a café a few blocks from where the kids played. Blaine arrived on time but Kurt did not show. Texting Kurt, Blaine found out Kurt waited at the daycare. Shrugging, Blaine bought a coffee and ran off to join him. Long ago, texting throughout the day became a normal part of their complicated lives. Oddities happened now and then.

Five weeks later Blaine began to become curious about some of Kurt’s texts. One had him go to the daycare. It ended up to be a non-issue. When asked, Kurt brushed it off. Another involved meeting one of the directors of the staging companies making the backdrops for the production. That turned out to be non-event though it allowed Blaine to straighten out a few things. A number mini-dates got mixed up. Two or three texts indicated he would be coming home late. A number had Blaine running around looking for things Kurt needed.

One afternoon Kurt texted Blaine asking him to meet backstage. Walking down from the front office, the stage manager directed him to the storage area at the rear of the building. Working his way through the jumble of sets under construction, Blaine encountered no one. Moving around a fake wall he turned a corner and suddenly stopped. His heart dropped and his blood pressure hit the roof. Before him stood Kurt and another man. The thin, nerdy looking fellow faced his husband with his pants down around his ankles. Hands reached down into Kurt’s unbuttoned pants while he kissed his way down the neck.

Stunned, at first Blaine could not believe what he saw. Then he called Kurt’s name. The nerdy fellow jumped all over himself pulling up baggy pants as he scooted away. Kurt just stood there with an oddly blank expression. He did not even look toward his dazed husband. His heart pounding in his chest, Blaine stepped forward. Abruptly stopping, he drew in a deep breath. Glaring at his disheveled husband and stormed off.

Pushing the door open, Blaine found Kurt playing with Alex and Kate in the living room of the modest two bedroom flat. Controlling his anger, he hugged the children as they ran toward him. Kissing them both he asked what they did in day care. The twins clamoured to tell him and, then like young children, they ran back to their toys.

Standing, Blaine forced himself not to look at his disloyal husband. Taking off his coat he stiffly hung it up.

“Hey, honey,” Kurt called from the living room. Alex climbed over him on his way to the toys on the couch.

Slipping off his shoes, Blaine did not reply.

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice revealed his confusion.

For the sack of the children, Blaine struggled to keep it in check. Marching into the kitchen the fridge flung open and he snatched up a bottle water. Then, like a ghost, he vanished into the bedroom. Fifteen minutes later he sat on the edge of the bed brooding and staring at the pictures on the wall. Kurt and him at prom. Kurt and him with their newborns. Kurt and him on the opening night of their first production. All the while the pain in his chest suffocated him.

The noise out in the hall told Blaine Kurt put the kids to bed. A little while later he heard Kurt open the bedroom door. The pounding in his chest spiked as he face flushed. For five hours he wandered about the entertainment district trying to come to grips with what he felt. Rage declined to a simmer.

Blaine jumped when his husband’s hand fell on his shoulder. Spinning about, he blurt out, “What the fuck, Kurt!”

Backing up with a confused look on his face, Kurt said, “Blaine?”

Blinking, Blaine pulled in a deep breath in an attempt to control his bubbling anger. A wall separated innocent children from brewing fury. His heart went out to them. They would have felt the tension but, luckily their age worked in their adult’s favour. They would not understand.

Kurt must have noticed the thunderstorm upon his husband’s face. His look suddenly changed from surprise to concern. Holding out a hand he asked, “Blaine, what’s wrong?”

“Who was that?!” Blaine fought to control himself. He thought they had worked passed all that years ago. The pain in his heart spread down his torso into his groan.

Shocked, Kurt’s eyelids fluttered.

The look upon his face sent a sprig of compassion through Blaine’s heart. For a second Blaine softened. Letting out a hard breath, he said, “Kurt, you texted me meet you and…”

Kurt’s head moved to the left. He honestly looked puzzled. “And?”

“Kurt, I saw you this afternoon with a tall skinny fellow back stage.”

Thought crossed Kurt’s face and then bit his upper lip and looked down. “Chandler.”

“Chandler?”

“Chandler Kiehl, I met him years ago at…”

“Hell, Kurt, how long has this been going one?”

“What so you mean?” Kurt's face grew angry.

Shaking his head, Blaine started, “I…”

“Blaine, he’s a stage hand. I talk to stage hands all the time.”

“Bullshit. Something funny has been going on for at least the last month”

“Blaine, what the hell is going on?”

Rising from the bed, Blaine glared at Kurt. The blood pumping through his limbs caused the veins in his neck to extend. Holding his hands out before him, finger splayed, Blaine found he could no longer look at his husband. Fighting to keep his voice down, he looked away toward the window. “Kurt, I saw the two of you.”

“We were talking about the sets.”

Blaine did not see the look. In his mind it spelled guilt. “No, Kurt you were not. He had his hands down your pants.”

“Blaine….” Kurt looked utterly surprised.

Throwing his arms up, Blaine ran from the room picking up the travel bag he had tossed things into. Grabbing his coat and slipping on his loafers on the way out, Blaine ignored Kurt’s wailing. By passing the elevator, he stomped down five stories to the lobby. Stepping out onto the street, he turned to the right headed for the subway and Rachel’s. Lost in his rage, he felt a brief moment of agony followed by the odd sensation of flying up over something and then smashing into crumbling metal.


	12. Darkness

Peace. The heart wallowed it. Floating, distractions, what could possibly bother. All earthly problems faded. Time, existence, the feelings of life meant little. Blessed stagnation held. Worries washed away in the odd sense of being. It seemed to last for an eternity. 

For a split second he became aware of the agony raking his body. Then a soft poke of discomfort intruded bringing the bliss back. The earthly stuff lay beyond the walls where turmoil dwelt like a cat ready to spring. Muscles coiled and hapless emotion stalked weakness. Part of him wanted that but the majority settled for the calm of a new existence. The sensation invoked distance sensations of the comfort.

Within the wandering mists, he saw things. Two men on a lay on a hill side by side looking up at the clouds. Deep longing touched both of them. A man in shining armour sat upon a horse draped in colour staring out at the crowded stands. His eyes searched the audience paying little attention to his opponent at the other end of the lists. Hazel eventually found blue. A young noble smiled. Another, two peasants worked a field under the hot sun. Elsewhere a couple swam in the fertile waters of the mighty Nile. Reality had not meaning. Sparse images of other couples folded in upon themselves as if they played with one another.

Then, it all flashed away within a hint of motion. Fear struck and the human form fought to survive. Immersed into dreamlike darkness, something manipulated torn muscle and bone. Some element of himself felt odd liquids enter is body numbing it. An object moved and then dug into hardness like a drill twisting into wood. 

Again, he drifted until some part body registered a touch. For a fleeting moment it invoked feelings of warmth. Just as fast, terror, anger, lose and betrayal echoed within the heart. Agony struck and then that sudden sinking feeling crept into the waking mind. Two young men sat at table. One tried to hold back tears. The other told said the wedding would never happened. A tangle of disparate emotions gathered and then motion. Vanquished desire and hope swirled away into the unbelievable. Life crumbled. Schooling crumbled. A flickering flame twisted in an uncertain breath.

A scent pressed in upon him. Tender emotion swelled. Someone lay in a bed, his face battered. Friends stood about him silently talking. A hand stroked a hand. A voice rose within concern and worry. Love lay there. Seeing him lying there wrenched the soul. So beautiful, young and innocent. A finger traced a line across close to one of the cuts. He should have been there to defend him and help him. Guilt rode within his chest as a voice rose in song. The heart called out in hope. The body lifted and then came to rest on the edge of the bed. Curling up, a head came to rest beside the man he loved. Dream or reality, a tear rolled from a closed eye. For a moment love triumphed and then the dreadful gloom tainted him as the heart collapsed. 

For a time, everything about him sounded like rain drumming on a barrel. Each beat told him he lived. At some point he thought he saw two little faces drifted close kissing his unshaven face. A soft, small hand rested on his. Then a second. They felt different but familiar. At that moment the full measure of his will grasped onto whatever remained. A candle flared and for a moment he looked upon two angels. 

Then the darkness took him again and he swam. Things came and went with the avenues of his consciousness. Chill air racked across exposed skin. A hand twitched. An intake of air echoed on the edge of consciousness. Slowly a drugged mind opened up. Blurry light strained weary eyes. Distorted images twisted in and about one another. The wall slowly tilted and the ceiling became the floor. Two men walked with the shifting landscape. In the early thirties they, they slowly morphed with age. Tails and white ties marked the station in life. Hovering close to fifty, their heart glistened with the renewal of lost love. 

It collapsed into hot and unstable fury as if a deadly cobra prepared to strike. The physical form gyrated. Something pulled at his arm and then turbulent emotion spiraled away into the darkness. That smell lingered even in the place his drifted. Tugging on this and that, the soul found comfort while he heart closed. 

Another aroma, sweet and tender, drew wild sentiments in a completely different direction. For a moment he felt the everlasting love of the womb. Warmth surrounded him as he swayed ever so gently with the motions of his mother. Her touch, her kindness, the manner in which she cared eddied about him. Fears, doubts and even anger dashed upon the rocks. He had come home.

Eyes flickered and he involuntarily shifted away from the brightness. A shrill voice broke the silence. Anguish beyond compare exploded in his chest. A hand touched his. Bitterly, he looked away. It felt different. Soft and warm, he smelt familiar shampoo. Unconscious need pulled is head back. Through teary eyes, Blaine gazed at his mother. Admiration filled a broken son’s eyes and then the inconsistent sight altered. Pam looked to a man standing nearby. Kurt stood there with concern on his face. The man looked haggard as if he had been up all night. Blaine’s head rolled away, anger filled his eyes.

Gazing at the wall, a groggy Blaine felt as if he has not bathed for days. Fur coated his teeth. He felt terrible. That hand on his warmed a hard heart. Turning back, he moaned, “Mom?”

“I’m here, my darling boy,” Pam leaned forward and kissed her son gently on the cheek.

“Thank god,” an excited, high pitched voice said in the background. 

Bubbling rage overpowered the drugs caressing his blood. Weakly, hatefully, Blaine demanded, “I don’t want him here.” 

“Blaine?” Kurt’s eyes revealed shock pain.

“Just leave,” Blaine spat. He turned his head to face the window and away from the door where his disloyal husband stood beside. He lay in a private room.

“Blaine?” Pam softly pleaded.

“Mother, please.”

“Blaine?” Emotion choked Kurt’s tone.

It pulled at Blaine but he refused to budge.

His mother shifted in her chair. She said to her son-in-law, “Kurt, darling, I think it best. Please, wait for me outside.”

“But…” For a moment no one spoke and then Kurt sadly said to his husband, “You know where to find me, if you need me. I love you, Blaine.”

The words exploded sending confusing shockwaves through a torn body. Blaine could not, would not respond. The door opened and closed. Hesitantly Blaine turned his head and his mother came into view. She looked fuzzy for a moment before everything came into focus. She looked relieved and worried at the same time.

Taking her son’s hand, Pam weakly smiled. She looked tired. “Blaine, what’s going on between you two?” 

“Where’s the children?” Pain flashed in Blaine tone.

“They’re with Rachel.”

“I want to go home, mom. To my own bed.”

“You just woke. The doctors aren’t going to let you go anywhere.”

“I want to be a long way from here.”

Pam looked confused. Her eyes drifted to the door.

He son’s followed. “I want the twins to come with me.”

“Blaine, what’s going on?”

“Mom, please.”

“You’re going to be here for a while longer,” Pam patted Blaine’s hand, “You broke an arm, shattered your shin and you have a head injury.”

Blaine looked surprised. “I remember…”

“Sh-h-h-h-h, dear, we can talk about that later. The police will want to speak to you.”

Blaine looked confused. Blinking a flash of pain erupted behind his eyes. Rolling his head to the right he cringed.

“Blaine?” Pam leaned forward.

“I’m alright, mom?”

“You want me to call for the nurse?”

Blaine shook his head. “What happened mom?”

“You were hit by a car.” Pam bent her head down toward her injured son.

Blaine closed his eyes for a moment. He vaguely recalled the sensation of a sudden impact. Time became lost to him after that. Weakly he said, “It felt like I was floating.”

“You’re been in a coma for six days.”

Bewildered shock crept across the injured man’s face. Two doctors and a nurse walked through the door. Blaine crushed his eyes shut. Kurt leaned against the wall opposite the door with a hand over his eyes. He looked so sad. A twinge of regret touched Blaine’s heart. He abruptly averted his eyes.

The physicians walked up to either side of the bed. The nurse prepared to check vital signs and to draw blood. One of the doctors, asked, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two and a fat thumb,” Blaine replied. 

“Funny,” the other doctor commented.

“A sense of humour is a good sign,” the nurse commented as she checked the machines hooked up to Blaine. A respirator sat used against the wall. They had him on a heart monitors and something that constantly checked his vital signs. 

The first doctor smiled. “We are going to run few tests, Mr. Anderson-Hummel. There was no damage to your spine but we want to make sure there is no lasting head trauma. Now that you are awake, we can set up an MRI for tomorrow.”

Pam looked concerned she stood and stepped back. The nurse slid past her checked Blaine’s drip. She injected something into one of the tubes and then prepped Blaine’s arm for drawing samples.

“It’s a normal thing with head trauma Mrs. Anderson,” One of the doctors said. “The neurosurgeon wants to see what it looks like in there. Your son seems to be aware of his surroundings, but it is too early to tell.”

Blaine frowned and looked to his mother. He felt drowsy. “Mom, I don’t want the children near him.”

Pam stared. “Blaine…?”

He son cut her off, “Please, mom, I’m tired.”

The peace returned but it did not last. Sudden pain brought him out of it sometime in the middle of the night. A machine beside him started to chirp and within a few moments later a nurse leaned over him asking questions. Drugs took the edge away allowing him to return to that soothing place. 

Pam came to the hospital every day. Kurt did not return, at least as far as Blaine knew. Cooper phoned twice. His movie had entered the important final strokes. His father said absolutely nothing, which suited Blaine fine. Five days after waking up, Carole and Burt dropped in for a visit. They greeted Blaine warmly though their eyes spoke of the unease in the room. No one broached the obvious subject. Emotions frothed with his chest after the Hummel’s left. Kurt would have explained thing from his point of view. Blaine did not feel ready for that discussion it just yet. He adored them. 

The following Monday Blaine woke up in a surly mood. Uncomfortable dreams haunted him. Picking up the phone he made a call. Two hours later a pudgy, short balding man sat beside the bed with a note book in hand. “…if you want me to, Blaine, but I would not move on anything just yet. We do not have all the facts. The law is very specific.”

“Roger?”

“Honestly Blaine, it might be too much but the worst we can do is a fifty-fifty split.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Get better and let your emotions settle.”

Blaine made a face.

“In my experience it’s better to face things like this with a calm mind.” Roger paused. “I noted Detective Willis, was to see you this morning.”

“More questions.”

“They’re not getting any further ahead. The witnesses were useless. No one got a good look at the diver.”

“He never mentioned that to me.”

“I asked a friend to dig up some facts on the investigation. The car was stolen. No prints. He told me the driver purposely swerved onto the side walk?”

“Could…no…I could have had…” Blaine shook he head. He sat up in bed, his right leg in a metal brace and his right arm in a sling. They removed the bandage that wrapped his head leaving a few small ones within the bald long bald strip. Tubes ran form the bags hanging from a pole into his arm.

“Blaine?”

“Roger, what about the children?”

“That will be a little more difficult under the circumstances. Records show that you’re the father of Alexander but Kurt’s Katherine’s father. Rachel, being the mother, has a say in all this to.”

Blaine sighed, his eyes went to the door. Burt stood there with a bleak look on his face. “See what you can do.”

“I see you have company. I’ll get started on this, but I can’t promise anything.” Roger put his things into his brief case and stood. “I will be in touch, Blaine.”

Roger nodded to the man in the door as he passed by. Burt just stood there, his bald his shining in the hall light. He wore a dark grey suit with a rainbow pin below that of the nation’s flag. Pain washed through Blaine’s chest. Not the discomfort of his injuries, it radiated out from his heart.

Stepping into the room, he sort of smiled at Blaine and asked, “Who was that?”

“My lawyer,” Blaine answered in a sullen tone.

“May I sit?” Burt looked concerned.

“Please,” Blaine politely answered. He looked at the rainbow pin. He had given it to his father-in-law prior to asking Kurt to marry him.

Sitting, Burt looked at his son-in-law. Grief filled his eyes. “Blaine, it’s really none of my business, but are you certain you want to take that step?”

Making a face, Blaine glanced at the tubes sticking out of his arm. Feeling awkward, he found it hard to look at his father-in-law. Burt had always been up front with him so he returned the favour. “I don’t know, Burt.”

“May I give you some advice?”

Blaine shrugged.

“Listen to your lawyer. Let things calm down before you do anything. Kurt,” Burt’s eyes registered the manner in which Blaine bristled, “Kurt told me what happened. I am not going to debate it with you.”

“Thank you, Burt.”

“Just think this through with a rational mind.”

“I’ve been doing nothing but thinking about it.”

“Blaine, I know it makes you uncomfortable, but Kurt’s miserable.”

“And I’m not?” Blaine blurt out. He felt suddenly foolish. “Sorry.”

“Blaine,” Burt slid forward in his chair and placed his hand on the other man’s arm. “Remember that conversation prior to your wedding.”

“Yes.”

“We all make mistakes.”

Blaine glanced away.

Pulling his hand back. He did not look pleased. Burt added, “Your mother is coming back in a couple of days. She has things set up in Lima. The doctors have said you can go home.”

Blaine drew in a deep breath.

Burt continued. “Kurt and Rachel have consented. Carole and I to take care of twins while all this is sorted out.”

“Good.” Blaine’s voice had an edge to it. Blaine sighed and glanced at his father-in-law. “I am sorry Burt.”

“Blaine, I just want you to get better and sort this mess out with my son. I know you still care for him. Give yourself time.”


	13. The Innocence of Children

The follies of life, old Blaine though. Minute changes told him time slowly slipped away. The hand cooled as the last reminder of all things they shared faded away. Leaning forward he rested his bald forehead upon an old sweater. It felt at home. For over nine decades life played its little games. He endured even though at times the threads almost broke. Long ago he painfully realize what Kurt told him before they married; love can be bruised. 

It felt more than bruised. Kurt calling off their wedding shattered everything. The anguish he endured then lay somewhere in between the torture felt now. Blaine sat with his head against the headboard. It felt good to be at home and away from…he pushed it from his mind. Pam had left it almost exactly as it had been when he left almost ten years ago. The books rested in neat rows. Childhood toys sat in their place on the top of the shelfs. The sight comforted him. The doctors told him his body mended but the heart felt cold and hard.

He talked to his lawyer once since leaving the big apple. Much to Blaine’s consternation, Roger had spoken to Kurt. An unavoidable consequence, he did handle legal issues for the production company. It angered Blaine and he hung up. How dare he? Savage, raw pain caressed his veins. 

As the days rolled on he felt his softness touch him and then the waves of brutal, unforgiving anger gripped him once more. Why that nerdy thing? Chandler? How long has it been going on? Since high school? The thought racked through all thought garnering the gloom of despair. Why text him? Kurt set that up. He never had the balls to speak of his unhappiness. He could sing it, but speaking it sometimes felt like pulling teeth. Those old intimacy issues held fast. The method of his choosing had been so deceitful, hateful and unkind. If he had manned up, Blaine might have accepted.

Shaking his head, Blaine drew in a deep breath. He said to himself, “I need to think of something else. Perhaps a short walk.”

Dragging himself up off the bed, he grabbed his crutches and hobbled out into the hall. The cast on his arm made using them uncomfortable. His ass enjoyed the sense of relief. The stairs presented the usual issue. Sitting on the top stair he made his way up and down one by one. Finally, the backyard beckoned. Sliding on a coat, he stepped out onto the terrace and shivered. Cold. The rubber stub of one of his crutches slid. Worried, second thoughts rolled through his mind. Turning back he made a sandwich and hauled himself upstairs again. 

A flash of pain raced up his body when he reached the half way point up the stairs. Drawing in a deep breath, he suddenly thought of his father. To everyone’s surprise, Daniel visited, once. For a second his son saw a hint of emotion in his eyes. He avoided Pam. She kicked him out years before and Blaine no longer care where he lived. The two had a huge fight prior to the wedding. He actually hit her. Cooper reported it to the police. Things go ugly after that. Blaine travelled to and from New York often during that period. Cooper worked on a television show and could not get away. Blaine’s schedule had more flexibility. He tried to get back into NYADA but ended up in New York University in their preforming arts program. Kurt went back to NYADA with Rachel. Thus the surprising conversation about surrogacy. The things those two hatched.

A firt curled up. He did not want to think about it. Bitterness brewed like overheated coffee in his heart. Grinding his teeth, Blaine pouted. Rachel made the lovely gesture. At the time it sacred the crap out of the two men. When it came true, the couple marveled at the creations Rachel had brought into the word. The heart skipped a beat. He had to pee.

Limping back Blaine swung his leg up onto the bed. Resting it on top of a pillow he leaned back and sighed. It would be at least two months. How could he make it? Misery haunted him. He hated being angry. He just wanted to get on with it. Still, it lingered there like a festering sore no drug could cure.

Picking up the tablet from the side of the bed, he powered it up. In a couple of minutes he read the latest from Broadway. The entertainment news had reported on his accident and the cancellation of the production until his recovery. Many of his friends and compatriots sent private best wishes. Thus far the press had not gotten wind of other issues in the Anderson-Hummel family. He ignored Facebook. Regardless of blocking him, he still saw feeds concerning Kurt. Removing him from skype proved easier. 

The Sound of Music returned to Broadway for a limited engagement. Kurt would have commented his husband would make the perfect Captain Von Trapp. Growling, he flipped to another page. 

Ten minutes later, Blaine notices the little orange flashing skype signal. Tapping on it, Rachel left a message. Smiling, the typed back. The next thing he knew, her beaming face filled a portion of the screen.

“Hey, how are you doing?” She said. Her hair piled on the back of her head in a great bun. She looked like a matronly mother. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks shone rosy pink. 

Smiling, the recovering man replied. “Better. I tried to go for a walk but it’s icy out there.”

“You want to see, the munchkin?”

“Oh, yes.”

Rachel bent over and a chubby face filled the screen. The two year old squirmed and looked oddly at Blaine. A proud mother said, “She’s so sweet…during the day.”

“You get used to it,” Blaine countered.

“Tell me about it. I can’t wait to get a good night’s sleep.”

“I’m still not getting them.”

“Where’s the twins. The little one misses them.”

“Pam picked them from Carole’s after she got off work. She took them to a petty zoo.”

“That will be fun.”

“Living in New York they never see much other than strays and the flocks of pigeons. Not much of a country life there.”

Rachel laughed. “Has Sam dropped by?”

“A couple of times. He has girl trouble again.”

“What else is new?”

“This is big. He's going to be a father.”

“Again?”

“Yup.”

“Not the same woman?”

“Nope.”

“I hope that never happens to my little sweetie.” Rachel sighed and hefted her daughter up so she could scream into the microphone. 

Blaine involuntarily pulled back from the screen. “Jessie would skin him alive.”

Rachel laughed. “When are you coming home? I miss you.”

“Not any time soon,” Blaine looked bleak.

“Are you ever going to tell me your side of the story?” She bounced the bundle of joy on her knee. The little girl cooed. 

“Rachel?”

“I’m sorry Blaine, but you need to get hold of yourself.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Blaine, Kurt’s utterly distraught.”

“Rachel!”

“Come off it. I know you still love him.”

“I’m going to hang up.”

Shaking her head, Rachel said, “The two of you need to talk this thro…”

Blaine broke the connection and tossed the tablet to the edge of the bed. After five weeks, he still could not speak to his estranged husband. Without remorse, Pam told her son Kurt called now and then to see how he was doing. While Blaine resented the mention of his name, he knew Pam adored the man. His mother and the Hummel’s tiptoed about the subject. Burt spent most of the time in Washington where they debated a major trade bill. Last week, her son caught Pam taking note of the picture of Kurt and Blaine resting beside bed. It had not moved since high school.

Sometime that afternoon, the twins raced up the hall. Alex ripped around the corner first throwing himself excitedly on top the bed. The mattress rebound causing a wave of pain to shoot up his father’s leg. They pinned the bone in three places and then encased it in a metal brace. No longer wearing a sling, his arm remained in a cast from his wrist half way up his bicep. The tablet crashed to the carpet.

Kate entered at a statelier pace. In her tiny hands she carried a big cup with the lid tightly screwed to it. Walking to the edge of the bed she offered it to her father as Alex rolled about at the end of the mattress dangerously close to his father’s injured leg. 

“Alex, careful. You know you father is not well,” Pam said from the door. Alex gave her a hurt look.

“It’s alright, mom,” Blaine apologized for his son. Alex looked more and more like his father as he grew older. Kate reminded him so much of Kurt it hurt. How could he find fault with that sweet face? 

“Dad, drink,” Kate stood there holding the drink out to him.

Reached out, Blaine suddenly hesitated. Kurt’s soft blue eyes stared at him. His innocently loving daughter inherited them from her dad along with his cheekbones. Her nose and mouth vaguely mirrored her mother. 

“Daddy?” Kate quietly inquired.

Leaning forward, he took the cup and took a small draft. “Yum, strawberry.”

“I like chocolate,” the precocious Alex announced from the end of the bed. He lay on his stomach with his feet kicking in the air. A tiny hand approached the metal cage protecting his father’s left leg.

“Alex,” Pam counselled from the door. 

Pulling back, the boy pouted. Rolling over to the edge of the bed, he stared up at Blaine with greenish-hazel eyes. “Well you read to us daddy?” 

“Go, get a book and I will read to you,” Blaine said with a smile. The children made it so much easier. Their purity soften his heart. 

Gazing at Blaine, Kate asked, “Can we speak daddy K?”

Blaine blinked. His daughter had a haunting knack of knowing exactly what buttons to press. Again, she got that from Kurt. A sudden tinge of regret rolled up his chest. They missed him. Trying to hide his discomfort, Blaine answered, “Daddy K has to take care of things in New York.”

Studying the books on top of the dresser, Alex turned. “When is he coming for a visit?”

“I don’t know.” Blaine tried to keep calm. 

Kate pouted and then leaned her head on the edge of the mattress. Gazing up at Blaine, she looked like a sorrowful puppy. “Why are you mad with daddy K?”

Alex chirped up. “Daddy K is bring a….”

“Alex,” Crossing her arms Pam gave him that grandmother look.

The simple, blameless words shocked Blaine. Looking up at his mother, she just stood there in the door not judging. Oh, the love of children. No one else could force him into a difficult corner. He could not lie to the, nor could he tell them the truth. With all of Rachel’s skill his daughter wrapped stubborn Blaine around her finger.

For a moment Blaine felt awkward. The mind slipped back. A talk with Burt set him on a path. Stealthily, he set the gears in motion. The picnic basket sat ready in the trunk of his mother’s car. The flowers would be delivered on queue. Getting the object of hours of planning into place would not be too hard. Some aspects of his master plain had already been divulged.

When the time came Blaine froze. Such a huge gamble. The whole thing in could blow up in his face. The surprise came off exceedingly well. Sitting on either side of blanket spread out on a cement step, they chatted.

A deep voice asked. “What's the story with this New York guy?”

“There's no story. He was nice and people liked the idea of us as a couple but it never got serious. Let me break it down for you. The last time we tried dating I was in New York and you cheated on me. All right? Unacceptable,” the higher pitched tone responded. 

“We've been through this. I thought you were done with me. I thought it was over. I thought I was completely out of the picture in your life. Look at me in the eyes when I say this. I'm being beyond serious. I will never, ever, ever cheat on you again.”

“I'm gonna need you to sign one of those non-cheating contracts. You can get one on Oprah's Web site.”

“I will sign whatever you want just, please, say that you and I can be boyfriends again…What?”

“I don't know if relationships actually work. I mean, weren't Bethenny and Jason supposed to be forever?”

“For every Bethenny and Jason, there is a Will and a Jada and a Kurt and a Goldie. Come on…  
Can we at least just give it a try?”

“But I'm Goldie, of course.”

“Of course you are."

“Okay. I can't believe we're gonna do this again.”

“Daddy?” Kate whispered. She leaned into Blaine staring into his face.

Her father flushed red. 

Pam stepped to the end of the bed, concern etched on her face. “Do you want me to get your pain killers?”

The injured man blinked. Reaching up he wiped a tear from his eye. “No, mom, I’m fine.”

She gave him an odd look.

Harmlessly Kate asked, “Daddy, are you sad?” 

From the other side of the bed Alex pushed a colourful book at his father. Saved.

Taking it, Blaine smiled. “Climb up here and snuggle close.”

Pam cautioned. “Be careful, kids.”

“Yes yaya.” Kate chimed  
.  
The kids nuzzled up beside their father. Turning the cover, Blaine held the book so that they could both see the colourful pictures. “Once upon a time, a lovely princess...”

“Can I be the princess,” Kate blurt out.

“You’re already a princess.” Blaine smiled and continued to read.

“I’m the knight.” Alex puffed himself out.

Smiling, Pam turned away and went downstairs to begin dinner.

With care and expression, Blaine read to his children. Pretended he stood on a Broadway stage his voice rose and fell as he emphasized elements of the story. Now and then he paused to allow one of them to explore the pictures in the book. About half an hour later Pam stepped into the room. 

Glancing up from the page he just turned he said, “Mom?”

“Blaine, there are some people here to speak to you.”

“Who?” Blaine lowered the book.

Just then Burt, wearing a crisp dark brown business suit, walked into the room. Behind him came a lean, young fellow in a dark blue suit. Kurt hesitated in the threshold. The kids screamed and piled off the bed. Blaine’s face went red with pain.


	14. Truths

The man on the bed stared at his husband with disdain as the twins flew into his open arms. The impact dragged daddy K to the floor. Kissing and hugging, Kurt’s eyes held the gaze from across the room. The heart bled. The kids loved daddy K. Kurt loved them. How could he have kept them away from their loving father? The cruelty of demanding madness stuck in Blaine’s throat. Suddenly he looked away. What the hell happened? Seeing Kurt invoked all sorts of crazy, unhealthy emotions.

The stranger cleared his throat and Blaine glanced up. Pulling something from his pocket he flipped open an official looking identification. “Mr. Anderson-Hummel, I’m special agent Bryan Struthers of the FBI. I have a few questions for you.”

Time froze. Blaine could do nothing but stare. In the corner of his eye he watched Pam walk over to the twins and crouched down. “Would you like some ice cream? I have vanilla and chocolate.”

“Chocolate,” Alex said with excitement.

“Me too,” Kate cooed.

Taking their little hands, Pam glanced back at her son and then left the room. Kurt pulled himself to his feet. A tear rolled down his cheek. Blaine swallowed hard and looked away.

The FBI agent watched until the children left and then turned his attention back to the man on the bed. “Mr. Anderson-Hummel…”

“Please, Blaine,” the injured man cut in. He stared at the federal agent avoiding his deceitful husband. Kurt stood next to the door with his arms crossed. Blaine had never seen him wear such common, boring clothing. A large bruise circled his right eye. He saw enough to recognize the agony in Kurt’s tired, unshaven face.

“Blaine,” the agent went on, “Do you know someone named Chandler Kiehl?”

The look on Blaine’s said ‘what’ and then morphed into anger. Bitterly he replied, “I know of him but I have never actually met him.”

“Have you ever spoken to him?”

“Not directly.”

“Not directly?”

Blaine glance to the side and drew in a deep breath. In his mind he saw a skinny man making out with the man he thought he loved. He looked resolutely at Kurt. “The closest I got to him was when I caught him with his hands down…my husband’s…pants.”

Burt glanced at his son. Kurt looked terribly uncomfortable. A shaft of pain struck through Blaine’s heart. Burt did not know.

“I see.” Struthers wrote something into the pad in his hand.

Puzzled, Blaine asked, “What does this have to do with anything?”

“I think you have better hear him out, Blaine,” Burt said.

Blaine gave his father-in-law a look. “Do I need to call Roger?”

“No,” Burt answered.

“Okay. Can someone please explain what is going on and why he’s there?” Blaine pointed at his disloyal husband. Pain flashed across his face.

“Chandler Kiehl,” Struthers explained, “was arrested two days ago and charged with attempted murderer, attempted kidnapping, assault and a number of other things.”

Shocked, Blaine pulled himself up further in bed. Pain shot across his face and the book slid to the floor. “Murderer? Kidnapping?”

Without as much as a breath, Struthers added, “The FBI got involved when this Mr. Kiehl tried to kidnap the son of a congressman. Such an act is taken very seriously these days. We connected it to your accident and determined that he had tried to kill you.”

“What?” Shocked rushed across Blaine’s face.

“He was obsessed with your husband, Blaine. Four days ago he tried to kidnap him.”

Not knowing what to say, Blaine just stared as he shifted painfully on the bed.

Burt said, “Rachel walked into it.”

“Is she alright?” After the words flowed from his lips Blaine’s jaw hug down. He stared at Kurt with sudden, whole compassion. Somewhere within the fog of his mind, he saw two fifty year old men walking hand in hand down a hall. He blinked.

“She’s got cut up, but she’s fine,” Burt replied.

The agent added, “Mrs. St. James was injured in the altercation that prevented your husband from being removed from her residence.”

“Her residence?” Blaine winced when he shifted on the bed. Kurt made an involuntary step forward as if to assist him and then abruptly stopped.

Burt said, “Blaine, Kurt has been living with Rachel for the past four weeks.”

The FBI agent ignored the interruptions. “When we searched Mr. Kiehl’s apartment we found, what could only be described as a shrine to your husband. He had scrapbooks dating back ten years with almost every public detail of Mr. Kurt Anderson-Hummel’s life. A wall had pictures all over it with dates and details. Your wedding picture had an X through your face.”

Blaine’s eyes went to Kurt. He could barely believe what he heard. He lifted a hand and then it heavily fell to the bed. Finger splayed out and then he shook his head. The darkness he carried blew apart into a cloud of disbelieve. Two graying men wearing nineteenth century suites smiled at one another. Shaking his head, a shiver ran up his back.

Agent Struthers noted the look. “It gets a little more difficult, Blaine. We found video of you and your husband walking through the street, at the theatre, having dinner and making love…”

Blaine’s face went white.

“…We also found recent, graphic video of Mr. Kiehl having intercourse with Mr. Kurt Anderson-Hummel.”

Anger destroyed the look of astonishment on Blaine’s face. It scrunched up.

For the first time since stepping into the room, the FBI agent showed a hint of feeling. Regardless he continued, “Mr. Kurt Anderson-Hummel was in no means aware of what was happening to him. Mr. Kiehl drugged your husband with GHB and other drug that made him susceptible to suggestion.”

Blaine’s face feel. Wild emotion erupted within him. Sitting up straight, his face pulled in as aching throbbing agony raced up his leg. Staring at Kurt he felt suddenly ashamed. His husband looked down mirroring the emotion. Everything Blaine believed for the past month and half flew away on the whirlwind. Swallowing he felt, he did not know what he felt.

“There’s more Blaine,” Burt said.

The injured man glance at the FBI agent who said, “He hacked into you internet and cell phones.”

“The texts,” Blaine’s voice wavered.

Struthers nodded. “Yes, we have all those records. When we searched your condo, we found cameras hidden in your bedroom, the children’s room….”

“Fuck?” Blaine looked to Kurt.

Calmly the agent added, “He placed another in the ceiling outside your door and over your building’s front entrance.”

Blaine’s chin dropped. His leg throbbed. “He was watching us? When?”

“As best we can determine, he posed as a repair man seven months ago when telecommunications upgrades were being made to you building.”

“Hell.” Blaine felt suddenly violated. “And working at the theatre?”

“Things we found in his apartment indicate he started stalking your husband two years ago…”

“What…what…two years?”

“It could have be longer. He moved to New York two years ago after studying electronics and one year of nursing. The latter indicates he planned to drug you husband. To what end, we do not know.”

Eyes shifted about the room. They fell on Burt. His father-in-law looked as if he found out at the same time Blaine did.

“We’re still piecing it all together. He was hired after you signed the contract for your production.” Struthers’ paused. “One more thing, Blaine. Have you had unprotected sex with you husband in the two to three months prior of your accident.”

Stunned, Blaine stared at the agent. What a personal thing to ask?

“Blaine,” Kurt broke his silence. “I told the FBI we have never used condoms.”

Burt gave his son a look.

“Dad, we’ve been exclusive, other than…” Kurt dropped it.

His father looked less than impressed.

Blushing, Blaine’s mind went back to that talk about sex in the garage. He felt stupid. Deep inside the wall crumbled. Tears welling up in his eyes, he asked the agent, “Chandler’s positive?”

“I would have yourself tested, Mr. Anderson-Hummel.” Struthers suggested.

Blaine sat there with his mouth open. Hazel eyes went to Kurt. A tear rolled down his cheeks. His husband looked away and down. Shame flashed across his boyishly handsome face. The heart wrenched to the up to his throat. All of a suddenly Blaine looked upon the suffering his darling husband faced. How selfish of him?

Lifting his head, Kurt sort of smiled. Then he dropped his arms from his chest and walked over to the bed. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Blaine did not have the heart of push him away. The shock of everything he just heard crushed his anger. A different, more profound fear filled him. Looking into Kurt’s eyes Blaine blubbered. “Alex and Kate?”

Hesitantly laying a hand on his husband’s, Kurt said in a compassionate tone, “Insisting they come to Lima may have saved their lives.”

Unfettered tears suddenly erupted. Grabbing onto Kurt, Blaine pulled him into a tight hug. Hysterically crying, he buried his face into his husband’s shoulder. Every ill thought and wild emotion melted away at his touch of his precious Kurt wrapped his arms about him. What a fool? He had not even given him a chance. He felt like a junior again, desperately singing his grief out to the members of the Glee club. He cared nothing for the other person. Petty, egotistical, perfection defended his god given right to be correct. How little life had taught him?

Tapping Struthers on the shoulder, Burt indicated they should leave. Nodding, the agent put the notebook away and followed the congressman from the room.

The dam burst. Crushing Kurt in the bear hug, pain seared through his arm into this shoulder. Blaine did not care. All he wanted was to hold the man he so desperately loved. Tears soaked into Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt reciprocated and Blaine felt his body trembling against his.

Several moments later, Blaine slowly pulled away. Staring into Kurt’s gorgeous blue eyes, he stumbled on the words escaping his mouth, “Kurt…gods…I am so…so…sorry. How could I….”

Wiping his own tears and then so his husband, Kurt replied, “Blaine…”

“I’m such a fool.”

“Sh-h-h-h-h,” Kurt placed his hand upon the stubble of his husband’s cheek. “I like this look.”

Smiling, Blaine said, “I do need a shave.”

“And a shower.”

“How I love you.”

“I told you I would never leave you.”

They hugged again.

A shudder ran through Blaine’s body as a spike of pain shot up his leg. “I’ve been such…”

Again, Kurt placed his finger against Blaine’s lips. He said, “I had no idea he was there until, out of the blue, he said hello. We talked. He asked me what I have been doing since school. I had no idea a monster stood before me…until…I feel so used.”

“Kurt, you have nothing to feel guilty about. I’m the one who abandoned you. I should fell guilty. I do feel guilty.”

Kurt shook his head. “Never, Blaine. Never.”

“When I saw the two of…”

“Blaine, I should have realized it when he first said hello.”

“How could you know?”

Kurt hesitated. “It just didn’t feel right.”

“The important thing is you’re alright?” Blaine gently rested finger on Kurt’s quaking chin.

“I don’t know about that, Blaine. I’ve not been able to sleep. Walking outside alone terrifies me. This is worse than when I was bashed.”

Eyebrows furrowing, Blaine pulled Kurt into another hug. “You will never be alone again.”

“Blaine, he broke into our home. He did, god’s knows what there. I’ve been sleeping on Rachel’s couch.”

Blaine thought of that angry skype call. He pushed his thoughts away. Tentatively he said, “Your father said Rachel walked in on...”

Kurt’s finger touched Blaine’s lips again. “I had a doctor’s appointment. When I got back to Rachel’s, Chandler was there waiting for me. He jumped me from behind and suck a needle in my neck.”

The colour drained from Blaine’s face. “My god.”

“Rachel was right behind me.”

“Barbara?”

“Jesse had her.”

Blaine looked relieved and then stared at Kurt’s wide eyes. “Our…”

Stroking his husband’s face, Kurt said, “They were safe with you in Lima.”

“Were they?”

“The FBI found no indication…”

“Kurt?”

“It’s alright Blaine.”

“Rachel.”

“She walked in five minutes after myself. I knew she was just behind me. I should have waited downstairs. Chandler bashed her in the face. Then I jump on him.” Kurt pointed at his shiner.

Jaw hanging down, Blaine moaned, “Oh, my Kurt.”

“I started to lose it then. Whatever he pushed into my neck took hold. The neighbours must have heard something. They started to yell and scream and Chandler took off. I passed out shortly thereafter.”

“Good god, he could have…”

“Their safe. We’re safe.” Kurt paused pulling back ever so slightly. “Are we safe?”

Blaine looked confused. “You and I, are we safe…I mean…not separate.”

“Blaine, I…you…are we…”

Wrapping his arms about Kurt, Blaine pulled him so close it felt the two would merge. He whispered. “If you’ll still have me.”

Kurt voice sounded no more than a seductive hush of breath. “I’ve wanted you for weeks.”

Blaine weakly smiled. “Will you forgive me?”

“Will you forgive me?” Kurt looked down.

“Oh, my sweetie.” Blaine gazed at his husband. “With all heart.”

His, turn, Kurt gripped his husband tighter.

A shiver ran up Blaine’s back. The manner in which his husband enfolded his arms about him said everything. He softly said, “Kurt, are you really alright?”

“It’s nothing a few months in therapy won’t fix…I hope?” Kurt squeezed Blaine closer.

Blaine hesitated. His chin quivered. “Are you…sick?”

Pushing back, Kurt gazed into Blaine’s eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, Kurt answered. “I’ve been tested twice. Negative each time. The doctors say I will have to be tested every couple of months for the next two or three years.”

Blaine pulled his husband close again. Shivering, he shed tears. “Kurt, what have I done?”

Stroking Blaine’s back, Kurt whispered, “You did nothing.”

“But…”

“If it happens, we…”

Shifting his leg, Blaine stared uncomfortably at Kurt.

“Are you in pain, my love?” Kurt asked. He glanced down at the prone leg and attempted to stand.

His husband pulled Kurt down. Those two words send a shock wave through Blaine. Placing a hand on his heart, he said, “In here?”

Taking the hand, Kurt kissed it. “We’ll heal.”

“We’ll see it through together.”

“Together.”

Blaine pulled his husband close kissing him on the cheek. Kurt giggled as whiskers dug into his skin. 

 

  
The suddenly, Blaine smashed his lips into Kurt's face. Passionately kissing, weeks of confused, angry emotions spilled away. One thing led to the next and they carefully and safely got each other off. A few days later, the Anderson-Hummel family returned to New York. Bruised and battered, Rachel, Jessie and their daughter Barbara met them at the airport. The two families had dinner that night while the kids harmlessly played around them. About nine thirty, Blaine smiled when he hobbled into the flat he shared with Kurt and the twins. It felt wrong but all so right at the same time.


	15. Dancing

Kurt hurled his large bag down on the bed. “Wow, this is nice,”

The room had a full length, wall to wall window that could open with a metal railing. The television hung from the ceiling in the corner by the window. A queen size bed rested against the angled wall with the bathroom behind it. The sideboard and makeup desk spanned one wall from the door to a loveseat. A small table rested between it and a rounded, low back chair. The bed had a stark, two toned white striped bed spread with a light brown with a blue duvet rolled back covering the foot of the bed. The long thin, river cruise ship lay tied up to the dock in Amsterdam. Brightly coloured houses lined the opposite shore. 

“Kind of small.” Blaine looked about. He hoped for something larger but money did not grow on trees. He couple got by but the riches Broadway could offer remained just out of reach. Their production company aided up and coming artists in the theatres in off, off Broadway. Some of those productions made money. One of them moved on into the Fringe Festival circuit where it garnered interest and success. 

Looking very serious, Kurt said, “Do you want to be back in that hospital room?”

“Na, I would rather be here with you?” Blaine gave Kurt a smothering glance. The events of the past months, their recovery as a couple and as individuals, had moments that stretched things. Tensions flared but they played by the old rule; never go to bed angry. It made for some interesting evenings. 

“Ah, you’re so sweet.” Kurt pressed closer and kissed his darling husband. 

Emotion radiated from Blaine’s face. This trip celebrated new beginnings but he missed the kids. Now five years of age, the grandparents spoiled the twins in Lima. It took two months before Blaine could walk without crutched and another four before he could walk without a cane. Once they unscrewed the metal cage from his bone he Blaine endured physiotherapy five days a week. In a month it dropped to twice a week. They went to therapy as a couple. Privately, Kurt visited a specialist to assist him getting over the nastiness he endured. Every two months he got tested. So far, every looked good. The boys continued to play it save though they yearned for the good old days when their trust provided a more natural experience. Both realized that may never happen again. 

A, large duffle like thing and a shoulder back collapsed around Blaine. Glancing about, a bottle of Champaign and a basket of fruit sat on the sideboard opposite the bed. Plucking the card from the nap of the basket, Blaine read it. “Have fun, mom, dad and mom.”

“That was nice of them.” Kurt sat on the edge of the bed bouncing up and down. “Soft.”

“Fun.”

“Blaine?”

“Yes?”

“Come here.”

“Oh?” Blaine played innocent.

Kurt reached out and dragged Blaine over and the both fell into a ball on the bed. Lips locks and then one of them winced. 

Kurt pushed back. “You alright.”

“Pinched nerve.” Blaine complained.

Making a face, his husband said, “They warned us about that.”  
His partner shrugged. “I don’t care. We’re in Europe. Make love to me.”

Evil smile. Kurt rolled of the bed and drew the drapes. Coming up behind him, Blaine wrapped his arms about his waist and pulled in close.

“My, you’re excited,” Kurt purred.

“You’re about to see just how much.” Lips pressed against husband’s neck. Hands searched up pulling on buttons exposing Kurt’s muscular stomach to the European air. Years of dance and exercise provided Kurt with a nice form. Ten years ago, his shoulders had less girth and chest, while defined, showed his youthful age. Time matured both their bodies giving them firmness and definition.

Kurt’s head fell back onto Blaine moaning. Reaching back his hand pressed down between the two of them to feel his husband’s expression of excitement. Fumbling he popped the buttons and searched. Blaine grunted once or twice and then spun his lover around. Wet lips found each other while fingers tugged on the fabric covering their bodies. A hairless chest pressed against darker fuss. Blaine gave up shaving.

Groping and moving about, in time they fell back onto the bed. Blaine landed on the baggage. Kurt kicked it onto the floor. Tongues tasting, Kurt worked his way down Blaine’s torso. His husband hauled him north of the border. Not yet.

“Ah, there you are?” Rachel looked away from the view. The ship plied the Rhine working its way out of Amsterdam. She and Jesse sat at a table next to the window. 

Jesse sipped on a glass of wine. He smiled. “Pull up a chair.”

“You two up walking the deck?” Rachel inquired prior to popping a strip of cheese in her mouth.

Blaine and Kurt glanced at one another and smiled. 

“It must be nice to be rabbits,” Rachel glanced to her husband. 

“If we did it as often as they did, you would really be getting no sleep, my dear,” Jesse responded and then the touched her stomach, “Beside, it’s my turn to have number two. These two hogged your apartment.”

“You were barely a shimmer in my eye when I rented it out.”

The four of them laughed. Rachel leaned in and kissed her husband.

“This is going to be fun.” Kurt suddenly blurt out. Looking out the window, he watched all the colour buildings pass by. “I can’t wait to get to Vienna. The Hofburg, Belvedere Palace, outdoor cafes and the music.”

“Men in lederhosen.” Blaine injected. 

Kurt took his husband’s hand and squeezed it. Blaine’s thumb rubbed against his skin. “As long as I get to see you out of them.”

Jesse cleared his throat. “I’m interested in the opera house. I want some ideas.” 

“Kill joy.” Kurt made a face. “A business trip, really?”

“Not yet,” Rachel waved a finger at her school hood friend and then she winked at her husband. “We’ve got lots of time.”

Smirking, Kurt said, “You’ve got a bun in the oven. Your options are limited.”

“That’s part of the fun,” Jesse kissed his wife.

“Have you considered out offer?” Blaine felt uncomfortable with where the conversation drifted. Accepting a class of wine from the wandering waiter, he sipped. The passengers and crew in crisp uniforms, warmed up for the welcoming party. Light, classical music floated through the large, forward lounge. 

“We’re on vacation,” Jesse defended himself.

“Come on, dear, it’ll be fun. There‘s nothing like a bunch of drag queens to make your day interesting,” Rachel purred.

Mr. St. James leered at his wife. “Only if you wear nine inch heels and a bustier.”

Straight racked her tongue over her lips. “Later.”

“We’ve got thirteen days to enjoy, do a little sightseeing and basically relax.” Kurt rubbed his husband’s hand against his thigh. “No pressure.”

Jesse did not look impressed. “Yeah, right. It’s been a rough year.”

“Yup,” Blaine frowned. He wished the guilt would go away.

“Next year will be harder,” Jesse warned. “You’re starting up your production again and, by the looks of things, with a bold new twist. Do you think it will fly?”

The two guys glanced at one another and shrugged. Kurt replied, “The costumes will be fun.”

Jesse shook his head. “Why on earth would you change it?”

“I was bored lying about all those weeks. I needed something to do? So, I took a crack at the music,” Blaine peaked to his husband, “Kurt’s wonderful, wacky sense of humour filled in the rest.”

Jesse gapped. “It’s a timeless classic.”

“Come on dear, it could be a scream if done right,” Rachel commented. “Nothing quite like this has ever been done on Broadway before.”

“Off Broadway,” Jesse corrected.

“No, Broadway,” Blaine amended.

Surprised, Jesse gawked.

“Yes, Broadway.” Blaine nodded with a smile.

“Oh god?” Jesse rolled his eyes. “You’ve been busy.”

“I had lots of time.”

Leering at Jesse, Kurt purred, “Well?”

Rachel’s husband shoved a slice of cheese in his mouth.

Impishly smiling, Rachel held up her glass and toasted, “To a successful opening night without Sue.”

The four of them chuckled.

“I wonder if she is somehow on this boat,” Blaine mused.

“One stalker a year is enough,” Kurt trembled.

Blaine picked up his hand and kissed it. A couple of older ladies gasp. His eyes suddenly wandered the room. “Do you realize we are the youngest passengers on the ship?”

“Who cares? This is going to be fun.” Kurt looked playfully at Blaine. “Do you think we can get them all on the dance floor?” 

Blaine embraced his husband’s hand. “I would rather have you get me on the floor.”

One of Kurt’s eyebrows shot up

“Boys?” Rachel chastised. 

“Mommy?” Blaine and Kurt said together. One of them pulled on the other’s hand. “Let’s dance.”

Gazing at one another they grinned and then rose. The challenge set and not to be out done, Rachel took Jesse’s hand and dragged him up to the small dance floor. Once on the floor, Blaine stood facing Kurt. Taking a proper pose, he bowed with flourish offering his hand. As he went down, he noted the look on the face of an older gentleman sitting close by. Bowing, Kurt took it and the two stepped into the classic waltz pose with the right and left arms extended. Soon they leaned closer while keeping with the style. Jesse and Rachel moved effortlessly about them. At first people just stood or sat staring. A couple in their sixties strolled out onto the wooden floor and joined them. Soon, five more couples made their way around the floor. The young crew about them did not seem to care one way or the others. 

“This sort of reminds me of our wedding,” Blaine whispered to Kurt. His husband felt so warm against him. The misery of the past months seemed to be a vacant memory that pieced dreams like a haunting ghoul. His lover’s health continued to worry him. 

Kurt snickered. “Are we expecting lesbians?” 

“Remember our first dance before Santana called for a general melee.”

“That was so romantic.”

“It topped off a uniquely upside down day.”

“Yeah, the look on my father’s face when we told him.”

“I think he was more shocked because we were in our underwear.”

“Sue always had quirky timing.”

“It was a lovely day, though.”

“Cooper was pissed with us.”

“I would say so.”

“He actually stormed off the set.”

“Almost lost his job.”

Kurt pulled his head off of Blaine’s shoulder. “We never made it up to him, did we?”

“Did you want him going on the honeymoon?” Blaine smiled as he swirled Kurt about to the soft bounce of Straus. 

“The cabana house was nice but it would have been a little crowded.”

“With the owner’s family running around, yeah.”

“Sue screwed up. I think he was a little angry but accommodating.”

“They did put on a nice spread and allowed us use of their boat.”

“If either of us knew how to sail.”

“We did.”

“If this boat is a rocking, don’t come a knocking.” They laughed and then Kurt spontaneously kissed Blaine. An older person made a comment but the boys did not care. Happiness trumped anything.

Rachel commented as she and Jesse swung closer. “Get a room.”

“We’re remembering our wedding,” Blaine replied.

“That was a lovely surprise,” Rachel smiled.

Jesse grinned. “Sue having a heart, who would have guessed.”

“Wonders,” Rachel sarcastically replied as her husband spun her away.

Manipulating things, Kurt carefully watched the other couple edge to the other side of the dance floor. He shifted Blaine the other way.

Blaine noted his husband’s subtle change. “Okay?”

“The whole wedding thing scared the crap out of me,” Kurt bashfully admitted to his husband.

Blaine kissed his husband on the cheek. “I almost peed myself when I knelt and asked you to marry me again.”

“That was so romantic. It floored me.”

“I loved you so much and still do?”

“It’s not always been easy.”

“But, I never really stopped loving you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it has been difficult at times.” Blaine gave his husband a look. Pain stretched to his heart. The hatred that had consumed him ruefully played games. “We have one another and I’m never, ever, ever, going to let you go.”

“Ah, you’re so full of it.”

Blaine gave Kurt a look.

Innocently smiling, Kurt teased. “You will have to let me go if you want to walk back to the table. But then I like the way you are pressing into me.” 

“Naughty boy.’

“Later.” Blaine smiled and then he looked away. When his eyes came back he confessed, “I was terrified when I walked down the aisle with Santana.”

“You looked so cute.” Kurt leaned into his husband. “You never told me what you said to her?”

“It was nothing romantic,” Blaine shied away.

“Well?”

“I told her I felt like throwing up.”

“That would have been a skeptical.” From a few feet away, Rachel cut in. The other couple has circled around. She then said to Kurt, “And you, what did you feel.”

“Horny.” Kurt blurt out with all honesty.

Blaine gaped at his husband.

Rachel choked. “Oh?”

Grinning from ear to ear, Kurt said, “You know how hard I struggled not to rip his clothes off after the, I do’s.”

“Our parents already had enough shocks for the day.” Blaine blushed but he shared the sentiment. Things had gone terribly wrong and after all the turmoil, Kurt finally belonged to him.

Jesse had an awkward look on his face. With graceful poise he steered his unwilling wife away again.

“He’s such a saint,” Kurt noted.

Blaine chuckled, “He has to be to put up with her antics. We can throw her back.”

They laughed and the colour drained suddenly from Kurt’s face. That distant look haunted them over the past few months. Steering his husband away from nosy ears, Blaine whispered, “What?”

Drawing in a deep breath, Kurt looked into his husband’s eyes and said in a low tone, “The FBI still haven’t found all the…”

“Kurt, we’ve been through this.”

Shaking his head, Kurt made a face. “Blaine, they could show up anywhere. The internet is a wicked place.”

“How deflating,” Blaine dropped his head onto his husband’s shoulder.

“You were…”

“I am always….”

“Not always,”

“Oh yeah.”

“Gods, we’re in high school again.”

Blaine laughed.

“Something naughty?” Rachel asked as she and Jesse swung closer. Jesse rolled his eyes.

Out of the blue a graying lady stepped closer catching them off guard. For a moment Blaine thought she would make a scene. Two men dancing together probably did not even make a footnote on the travel brochures. Wearing a light green and blue dress with a small gold necklace, she looked handsome with an air of society about her. The four friends moved on the edge of the New York’s high society. Kurt and Blaine had to in order to get their production company off the ground. June Dolloway, opened doors all over the city but they still had to do the leg work. She helped bank roll their first production. Less than impressed with its mediocre acceptance, the Tony award nomination astonished her. She threw a huge, pre and post awards party. Of course it all had to do with her reputation. Blaine privately feared she would hate the changes to their next production. If their first production pushed the boundaries, this one would break them.  
“Are you Rachel Berry?” the woman said as he stepped in front of the dancing couple.

Twisting his wife away from the intrusion, a shadow crossed Jesse’s brow. Rachel beamed and detached herself from her husband’s arms and said to the woman, “Yes, I am Mrs. Rachel St. James. Berry is my stage name.”

“Oh, you were wonderful.” The woman flushed. She spoke in a very heavy British accent. “I was at Funny Girl on your opening night with the critic from the London Times.”

Blaine looked at Kurt. His husband pushed his lips out as if saying, quiet. Mischief sparkled in his eyes. 

Rachel beamed. “Thank you. I would like you to meet my husband, Jesse.”

“Pleasure,” She offered her hand. Jesse took it. “Oh, I’m Judith Cummingham.”

Kurt suddenly looked over at the odd gathering. He whispered to Blaine, “Dame Judith Cummingham?”

Startled, Blaine said, “Who?”

“Don’t you read anything?” Kurt sounded angry. “It’s her married name. In the eighties she was the queen of London’s West End.”

Blaine blinked. He and Kurt had slowly moved away from the discussion. Rachel and Jesse had entered into a conversation in the edge of the dance floor. The two had no choice when Rachel dragging them into the scrum. Years of success had not dulled her over exuberant ambition. She acted like a scary sixteen all of a sudden. 

“Judith,” Rachel said as he hauled the two men with her. “I would like to introduce you to Kurt and Blaine Anderson-Hummel.”

Both men offered a hand. Blaine noted that Kurt looked confused for a moment. He could imagine Kurt wondering if he should bow or curtsy. Blaine stifled a smile. 

“You make a lovely couple.” Judith said after she shook both their hands. “Some of the old folks on this barge probably came close to seeing the maker when you kissed his hand.”

“Thank you,” Blaine politely replied. He felt his temperature rise.

“I apologize. I hope I did not embarrass you,” Judith said. Her head move to the right on an angle. “We wouldn’t dare do something like that in my day. My girlfriend and I married the sweetest gay couple so that we could keep up appearance. It’s refreshing to see how things have changed.”

Rachel looked a bit shocked. Jesse quietly laughed to himself. Blaine and Kurt exchanged looks. 

“Oh, dear, I never could keep my mouth shut,” Judith berated herself. “Please come and join us. I’ll introduce you to my gay husband.”

A man in his seventies sat at a corner table with one knee lifting on his knee. Fashionably dressed, Blaine found the sight oddly amusing. Fourty years from now, that would be Kurt. At one time he may have been very handsome. The goatee improved things. Blaine always wanted his hubby to grow one but then, Kurt shaved twice a week. 

Judith leaned in and kissed him on the cheek and then said, “David, I would like to you to meet Kurt, Blaine, Jesse and this is Rachel Berry-St. James.”  
“Oh, my,” David looked confused for a moment and then surprised. He stood with obvious trouble. Judith helped him. Offering each a hand, he paused at Rachel and then kissed the back of her hand. Smiling he added, “You are a talent, my dear. You mesmerized me. Such range. Such presence. Such an attitude. I knew you would make it. I was afraid that idiot from the New York Times was going to crucify you when that boorish woman tripped over him when she stomped out.”

Blaine whispered, “Sue.”

Kurt hushed him.

“You’re the London Times critic?” Rachel looked startled.

“Was. You honoured Barbara. She would have loved it.” Glancing at the handsome young men, a dreamy look crossed David’s face. His face changed for a moment as if he thought. “Barbara liked martinis and loved to argue with Princess Margaret.”

“You…” Rachel’s chin dropped. “…you knew Barbara Streisand.”

Kurt stammered at the same moment. “You knew…Princess Margaret.”

David chuckled and then carefully lowered himself into his chair. “I am sorry, I am not as young as I once was.”

Judith helped him with a warm smile. Blaine stepped forward to assist but she shook her head. 

“She was my idol. What was she like?” Falling onto Jesse, Rachel quickly recovered. She glared at Kurt.

Blaine had all but forgot Rachel’s nauseating, killer look. 

“Barbara was Barbara. What a diva. What a pain in the ass but then she was the most charming person knew. She would give her heart for a cause,” David said.

“Oh,” Rachel hands rested on his mouth.

“And to answer you, young man, yes, I knew the princess. I was part of her set in the sixties. I never met anyone like her. Powerful and pretty, in her day. She played hard. Lived hard and did her duty. She liked having handsome, gay men about her. It sort of made us…” David appeared upset. 

“It’s alright, dear,” Judith patted David on the shoulder. His hand came up and touched hers. “When we were your age, even younger, we could not kiss or dance in public. We hid. Her royal highness gave some of us a safe place to be ourselves. Kathy and I meet David and Paul at one of her highness’ parties. The four of us faced the same issues. British society can be less and accepting.”

“Seeing the two of you out there, brings back memories.” David suddenly looked down. ”Our partners are gone now…”

“Sorry,” Blaine and Kurt said together.

In a hushed tone, Rachel said even as she squeezed her husband’s hand. “How sad.”

“We had good lives, the four of us. Only Judith and I remain of our mighty foursome.” David threw his shoulders about as if he remembered something. “I regret none of it. Times were good. We meet some many people.”

“Barbara?” Rachel pressed.

Blaine shook her head. Things always found their way back to her needs. 

“She and Princess Margaret did not really like each other. The West End threw them together.’ David glanced at Kurt and Blaine. “You two are so lucky.”

“Thank you,” Kurt beamed at his love. He kissed Blaine’s hand.

David glanced up at Jesse. “You, young fellow, you’re gay…no…of course not.”


	16. The Sound of...Japanese Tourists

“For god’s sake, Kurt,” Blaine complained.

Someone moved on the other side of the bed. Trying to ignore it, Blaine enjoyed the dark and the nice big bed in a nice big room. Two weeks on the river cruise felt like heaven, to a point. Judith and David made wonderful travelling companions. Both had extensively travelled Europe. They knew all the coolest, out of the ways spots. Every so often the youngsters found themselves singing for the passengers. When they disembarked in Vienna the cruise director told that had been one of the most entertaining trips she had been on.

A hand fell flat against the small of his bare back. Kurt enthusiastically chimed, “Come on, rise and shine.”

Groggily, Blaine stared at the red radiance of the cloak beside the bed. “Kurt, it’s almost five in the morning.”

“Time’s a wasting, lovey.” Bouncing on the edge of the bed, Kurt pushed at his husband.

“I thought I came on this trip to have a break from those early mornings?” Blaine slowly rolled over rubbing his eyes.

Bobbing his head back and forth, Kurt’s voice had an elevated tone. “We’re in Vienna.”

“Yeah and the city’s still asleep.” Blaine threw his head against the pillow.

Turning his torso Kurt flung himself at Blaine driving his lips into his face. “Come on, hop in the shower.”

“Sex, again?” The sleeping man sort of pulled himself up so he leaned on one elbow. Kurt knelt on the mattress staring at him. Coated in shadow, the angle left nothing to the imagination.

Mischievously smiling Kurt sprang up and down on the bed. “No silly. A Sound of Music tour.”

A hand fell upon Blaine’s forehead. “Kurt…what…”

“Sh-h-h-h-h-h,” Kurt knelt on the bed placing a finger on Blaine’s chest. He lightly traced a line down the line of thin fur toward his bellybutton.

“Kurt?”

“I’ll order room service.”

“We’re in a bed and breakfast.”

“Oh, right. We will have to get something along the way.”

“Where?”

“To catch the bus.”

“Oh, bother,” Blaine pulled the sheets up over his head.

Flopping over his husband, Kurt pulled the blankets from Blaine’s face pouting. “You don’t love me anymore.”

Rolling his eyes, Blaine forced himself to shift under the weight of his husband. Meeting the other man’s eyes, Blaine’s heart melted. Kurt leaned against his chest looking like a large, lost, blue eyed puppy dog. Giving in, he asked, “When does the bus leave?”

Wilding shuttering so the bed moved, Kurt replied, “Six forty five. We have sixteen block taxi ride the hotel where we can catch it.”

Blaine yawned. “What about Rachel and Jesse?”

“Rescheduled for eight thirty.” Kurt jumped off the bed and began to dig into a drawer looking at his clothes.

“Do we have enough time?”

“We’ll be back in time. Promise.”

One of Blaine’s eyebrows went up. Wearily dragging himself out of the nice, warm bed he stretched. The center of his chest popped. When he leaned forward, his back cracked. He felt oddly old. Sighing, he glanced at Kurt. In the dim light he looked so handsome. Thwarted ambitions caused deflation. Making a face, he padded off for a cold shower. Thankfully they had a full bath. Most bed and breakfasts had shared facilities. Rachel and Jesse offered to help them afford a suite at their hotel, but the boys politely turned them down.

“Perhaps you should have asked them to join us?” Blaine yawned again and turned the water one. It sputtered.

“Nope. This is us time my dear, gorgeous husband. You and me. Now stragglers.”

“Just a bunch of tourists.” Blaine tested the water. Cold. He groaned.

“Get all wet now.”

“You coming?”

“Tonight, if you’re a good boy.”

“Kill joy.”

“Oh, get in that shower or you’re cut off.”

“The water’s barely warm.”

“Poor baby.”

“You’re all heart in the morning, dearest.”

Kurt popped his head around the corner and slapped Blaine on his bare ass. “I know dear. Isn’t it lovely?”

Blaine grit his teeth and stepped into the lukewarm water.

They made the hotel with fifteen minutes to spare. Less than enthusiastic, Blaine cooed when the found the café open. Breathing in the divine fumes, he savoured the moment. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on one’s perspective, the infusion of caffeine did not prevent him from drifting off on Kurt’s shoulder.

During those moments where forty winks became ten, Blaine had to smile. His adorable husband acted like an excited child in a toy store. His head went this way and that taking in the early morning vistas as they sped down the autobahn. Both cute and annoying, Blaine could not really find fault with his actions. The Sound of Music dominated many Friday nights for years. As a teenager, he skipped several of Burt’s coveted family dinners to attend the sing along. Both of them knew every note, chord and the movements of the actors by heart. Regardless of how tired he felt, Blaine had to admit he found this side trip exciting.

Somewhere along the way they sped past a pullout full of brightly coloured buses. The parking lot beside a quaint Austrian restaurant teamed with families and kids wearing nun’s outfits and what looked like drapes. For a moment a tired man thanked the gods Kurt has messed up on the travel arrangements. He booked them on a regularly scheduled express bus.

About two and a half hours into what could be a longer day, Kurt tapped the slumbering Blaine’s shoulders. Startled awake a fuzzy brain perceived streets filled with old buildings, busy sidewalks and cafes teaming with people. Stretching, the knots in his legs pulled. His bum leg hurt.

“Hey there, sleepy head,” Kurt announced at a whisper.

“You’re dear to let me sleep,” Blaine purred. “Can we at least stop for coffee?”

“Yeah, I need one as well.”

“Did you get any sleep?”

“A little.”

“You’re wound like the kids on Easter eggs.”

Kurt, kissed Blaine’s hand. “Yeah, it’s not every day I get to play Julie.”

Sitting up straight, Blaine gazed at his husband. “You’ll make a lovely Julie. Pity you lift you nun’s hat at home.”

“Did I?” Kurt grinned.

A disturbed look crossed Blaine’s face.

Smiling, Kurt kissed his partner’s hand again. “I couldn’t find a hat box big enough. Besides I only saw the brochure yesterday.”

“Small miracles.”

“Are you mad with me?”

Taking Kurt’s hand Blaine caressed it and smiled. “Na. Tired yes. How could I be angry at my cute little puppy dog?”

Kurt panted. “You shouldn’t have insisted on double dipping last night.”

Blinking, Blaine blew his husband an air kiss. “You didn’t seem to mind.”

Wink. “You wicked, wicked man.”

Blaine grinned from ear to ear. Being away from New York and the day to day pressures, made him feel more comfortable with the events of the past year. The journey up the Rhine made for a pleasant distraction. Mornings lying in Kurt’s arms watching the lights of quiet farms and small towns drift by soothed reoccurring guilt. Lounging on the top deck and side trips to visit castles, permitted fantasies to take bloom. Detached by time, old Blaine had to smile. They would do the trip again to celebrate their fiftieth birthdays. That excursion involved singing at Vienna opera house and a few other places along the way. Budapest proved to be an interesting city.

Watching a motionless body, elderly Blaine sighed. In the present and in his memories, he regretted the experiences of a trying year. Some days he barely forgave himself. Justified or not, the things the man he loved endured gave him nightmares. The animal recorded the gory details. The thought made Blaine sick.

The trial proved frustrating and tested their metal as individuals and as a couple. The federal attorneys presented evidence neither man knew of. The FBI experts carefully detailed how Chandler administered the drugs. Attorneys showed disturbing video, read descriptions and argued of the admissibility of the evidence. Kurt took the stand to recount things lost in the fog. The defense attorney played games twisting words as he ripped his poor man to pieces. Regardless, the jury found Chandler guilty of not only the repeated sexual manipulations of Kurt but half a dozen others. The assailant had his revenge, if it could be called that. Sentencing had him shipped off to a psychopathic facility. This gave the boys little solace. If the doctors thought Chandler improved he could be released at any time.

As part of Kurt’s treatment, the physiatrist suggested hypnotherapy. There had been some success with rape victims who shut everything down. Some doctors believed it could be useful to those who experienced the effects of the date rape drug. Blaine endured this with his husband as he held is Kurt’s tense hand. Emotion flowed but in the end, the process proved to be less than effective.

A shutter ran up old Blaine’s back. The trip had been intended to leave all that behind them. Seeing Kurt so lively made him happy. Perhaps the horrors the trial dredged up could finally be put behind them. Yet, the guilt held. He should have noticed. He should have protected the man he loved. His doctors and him mom, told him he could have done nothing. Chandler died a few years later, but the ghost haunted for years to come.

Dragging his eyes from the wrinkled, but oddly youthful face of the man he loved, Blaine sought a picture on the wall. The white frame holding sheets of glass looked as it had in the famous movie. A group of forty odd tourists moved their way around the garden. The vast majority being Japanese, some of the ladies wore colourful kimonos. The translator had a big orange pole with a flag on the end in her hand. Everyone could find them. A smaller bus ran ahead to the next site with a cast of actors, boxed music and refreshment.

“Oh, my,” Kurt said as he strolled up to the gazebo. “I hope this better than the monastery.”

“Maria, was fun.” Blaine looked around with a smile. It looked exactly as it had in the movie. Crisp white paint and sparkling glass caught the light.

“For a canned depiction,” Kurt scowled. “This is not the tour in the brochure. It said we could sing along. I wanted to sing.”

Looking to his right, Blaine studied the cast as they prepared. A pimply blond played Rolf. Liesl looked no older and her hair dyed blond. Obviously school students working a summer job, these two doubled for other characters as well. The rest played various rolls including the Von Trapp children. Counting, one child seemed to be missing.

The gaggle of Japanese tourist wandered about the grounds as the interpreter and Austrian guide explained details of the original film set. Other tour buses pulled up and off loaded excited people, most of whom came from the orient. A number of kids in nun’s outfits and drapes trundled down the steps. Parents followed. The parking lot got very loud all of a sudden.

Tapping Kurt on the arm, Blaine led him over to the gazebo. Walking across the grass Blaine felt apprehensive. Kurt’s mood shifted toward despondent. Running his thumb across the glass and wood structure, Blaine gave his husband a speculative look. Folding his fingers in his, Blaine lifted his voice in song.

_You wait, little girl, on an empty stage_  
_For fate to turn the light on_  
_Your life, little girl, is an empty page_  
_That men will want to write on_

Smiling, Kurt picking up Liesl’s part. The three words rose in pitch as his voice echoed through the tree. Many of the tourist turned to look. The oldest male actor stamped over to guide.

_To write on_

From the far side of the audience, a short Austrian woman rushed forward waving his hand in the air. The dark haired Americans glanced at her and continued to sing. Kurt’s voice rose in crescendo of harmony. They two sang the words together.

_You are sixteen going on seventeen_  
_Baby, it's time to think_  
_Better beware, be canny and careful_  
_Baby, you're on the brink_

The little, smartly dressed woman pressed through the crowd holding up cell phones. Many of them refused to get out of her way. Then a harsh Japanese man in a suit stepped in front of her and sternly said something. Running over the translator diplomatically repeated the words. The angry woman backed off.

Enthralled, the two Americans took each other hands and began to dance even as their voices perfectly matched each other. Waltzing into the heart of the gazebo, they forgot themselves. On stage in their minds, their actions mirrored that of two young actors from the nineteen sixties with adaptations.

_You are sixteen going on seventeen_  
_Fellows will fall in line_  
_Eager young lads and roues and cads_  
_Will offer you food and wine_

Pushing off from one of the interior benches, Blaine felt a slither of pain shot up his leg. Shifting his weight, he stared Kurt’s eyes as he sang. No one stood about them. The two of them drifted elsewhere within a world all their own. Loving voices filled his mind.

_Totally unprepared are you_  
_To face a world of men_  
_Timid and shy and scared are you_  
_Of things beyond your ken_

The two parted and came back together again outside the glass structure. Even though the sun blasted down upon them, Blaine felt rain falling. Taking up poise of a waltz, Blaine led Kurt out onto the grass. Swirling his love around, Blaine strained as he lifted Kurt into the air.

_You need someone older an wiser_  
_Telling you what to do_  
_I am seventeen going on eighteen_  
_I'll take care of you_

The growing audience pulled back giving them room. Cameras flashed. People from other tours groups gathered to watch.

_I am sixteen going on seventeen_  
_I know that I'm naive_  
_Fellows I meet may tell me I'm sweet_  
_And willingly I believe_

_I am sixteen going on seventeen_  
_Innocent as a rose_  
_Bachelor dandies, drinkers of brandies_  
_What do I know of those_

Another moment of discomfort. Blaine would most likely feel it for the rest of his life. The doctors told him to hold off the dancing. Stubbornly he pushed limits. He treasured the stage and could not wait to stand under the lights before a cheering audience. Yet, at this very moment, perfection surrounded him. Stresses drained and he begun to see the last vestiges of a year of hell vanish.

Regardless, he beamed at Kurt as they twirled about one another. The eyes of the man in front of him revealed a brightness Blaine had not seen in months. It made everything prefect.

_Totally unprepared am I_  
_To face a world of men_  
_Timid and shy and scared am I_  
_Of things beyond my ken_

_I need someone older and wiser_  
_Telling me what to do_  
_You are seventeen going on eighteen_  
_I'll depend on you_

Dipping Kurt a when their voices trailed away, Blaine seriously kissed his husband. An army of tourists cheered and clapped. The Austrian tour guide stomped forward waving a finger at the two men but the audience did not care. Posing for pictures irritated the guide. They ran behind schedule.

The bus ride to the Mirabell Gardens became a vociferous affair. Blaine and Kurt belted out various pieces from the musical to the delight of the passengers. It became an odd mix of English, broken English, Japanese, German and Italian. About the midway point, the austere guide finally settled down and started to enjoy herself. When they reached the gardens, the cast waited dressed like the Von Trapp family. Through the translator, the Japanese business man asked the two American’s if they would continue. After coaxed the cast to play the children, they effortlessly slid into Do Ra Mi. The boys harmonizing Maria’s role.

At the Felsenreitschule, Blaine and Kurt walked about the old theatre. It looked different. A new roof and other improvements hid the movie look. Hordes of tourist wondered about as a crew worked on the roped off stage preparing for an evening event. Kurt grasped Blaine’s hand and led him up to the front of the seating area. There they stared for a moment and then, together, spontaneously broke into Edelweiss. The rising of harmonics carried through the fabled auditorium rallying the crowd. The stage crew stopped. From the wings an officious individual stomped onto the stage. Crossing his arms, he leaned back on one leg listening. When the echoes died and the crowd cheered, he clapped. Approaching the two young men, the veteran actor invited them on stage. Accompanied by famous, middle aged Austrian, the boys sang the iconic song again. In the end several hundred people sang amongst the camera flashes.

Shortly after nine, the wayward dual arrived at the Park Hyatt Vienna dressed in black tie. Escorted to the table, where Rachel and Jesse talked quietly to one another, both men looked a bit worn. The maidre’d pulled the chairs out for them and place stiff, white linen napkins on their laps. Drawing the open bottle of wine from the icy chiller, he poured and then withdrew.

“My, you two look handsome tonight,” Rachel commented. She looked sideways at the two men.

“We try,” Kurt responded.

“Happy you could make it. We were starting to get worried,” Rachel said with a naughty Cheshire cat smile. She wore a long, burgundy dress with an appropriate cut down the front. Jesse looked all the part of a gentleman in a dark gray suit.

“Sorry we’re late,” Blaine apologized. He bashfully smiled.

Smirking, Rachel asked, “You had a good day, I take it?”

“It was a fun,” Blaine replied. Sitting back with a sigh, he picked up the wine and sniffed it. Nodding, he took a sip.

“What did you two get up to?” Rachel asked. Jesse gave her a sideways look.

Jess glanced at his wife.

Studying the English menu, Kurt replied, “We went sightseeing.”

“That must have been interesting.” Rachel’s eyes twinkled.

Having lived with her for a couple of years, Kurt gave Rachel a look. “Okay, what’s on your mind?”

“I am more interested on what was on your mind?” Rachel innocently sipped her wine.

Blaine glanced at Kurt with a wicked grin.

Winking, Kurt glanced at Rachel with a speculative look. “Are we having dinner with deva Rachel or nice Rachel?”

“I think you should see this?” Rachel bent down and pulled her tablet out of her purse. Already primed, she turned it toward the boys. YouTube revealed two men dancing about a gazebo holding hands and singing Sixteen Going on Seventeen. The next scene had them singing on stage.

Blaine and Kurt glanced at one another.

Smiling, Jesse said, “Pam thought you looked cute.”

“How did she find out?” Blaine looked very serious.

Rachel grinned. “I sent your parents the link.”

“Judith, sends kudos.” Jesse tried to keep a straight face.

Giving Rachel a look, Blaine asked, “How many people did you sent that to?”

“Other than Facebook, everyone on our Tweeter, Myspace and Instagram accounts. I would say, not too many.” Rachel paused giving them a sideway look, “The internet did the rest.”

Jesse smirked. “You should see the comments from New York.”

Blaine buried his face in his hands. Snickering, Kurt gently kissed his husband’s cheek.


	17. Break Down

Hot sun reddened skin. Blaine lay on a blanket next to Kurt with his eyes protected by sunglasses. The sound of the Atlantic Ocean rolling up the beach filled his ears. Scrimping and saving through an upsetting year, they reserved most of their cash for this leg of the trip. The parents helped with the cruise. They called it’s a gift of forgiveness. It placed a strain on Pam. She struggled through the beginnings of a divorce while her son grappled with spiteful horrors. She worried for Kurt and made her concerned very obvious over dinner one night in New York.

Pam lived with the boys through the trial. Three weeks of their lives swirled away into the abyss. Kurt wanted to understand. Blaine needed to support the man he loved and to deal with his own demons. Pam sat there supporting both as the horrid details of a deranged psychopath unfolded. The scribbling and recordings of a mad man spoke of his undying lust for someone he would force into unpleasant acts and the husband he tried to kill.

One day she would sit beside Kurt, her hand on his while Blaine held the other. Another day she would cozy up to her son and comfort him. The day Kurt sat in the witness stand turned out to be the worst. Neither could aid him other than giving him a reassuring smile. The defense lawyer got his money’s worth and even accused Kurt of getting clues from the audience. Carole, Burt and Cooper sat with them that day and the two that followed. Carole remained in New York for the rest of the week while the lawyers and a battery of specialist argued over Chandler’s state of mind.

The weekend the jury deliberated, Kurt had a breakdown. Pam fretted and Carole took control. The physiatrist subscribed pills while their family doctor wisely suggested Kurt be removed from the situation for a while. Thus, the discussions of a second honeymoon. It seemed to cheer the man up. Circumstance and a delays in the sentencing dragged things on. Not working for months drained their resources and maxed out their credit cards. Then one night, four weeks after the Chandler gotten his due, Kurt brought it all in perspective.

Kurt picked through is food watching the twins. Blaine did not notice much at first and then those little signs started to appear. “Kurt?

Eyes flickering, Blaine’s lover hauled his eyes from Alex. He had that haunted look on his face. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the twins who playing with their food.

Blaine knew that gaze. His heart fell. Slowly placing his hand on Kurt’s, he asked, “What, my darling?”

Letting out a heavy puff of air, Kurt stared at the children. “Do you think they know?”

Blaine opened and closed the eyes. He sat there slack jawed unable to respond. They tried their best to shelter the twins. They played games, took the out to the park. Yet, something deep inside told him their innocence flew away within the underlying tension.

“They’re only children.” Kurt sounded so dejected. Compassionately Kate reached out and placed her hand on her father’s sagging face.

Squeezing his lover’s hand, Blaine’s heart wept. This city, this apartment solved nothing. Leaning away he picked up the phone sitting on the sideboard. Hitting sped dial he put it to his ear and waited. His face changed indicating someone picked up. “Oh, high Carole.”

Unheard words from far away.

“No, everything is alright, for the most part.” Blaine patted Kurt’s hand. A haze oozed across his eyes. Alex got off his chair and went over and hugged his father.

More speaking on the phone.

“No, not really. The children are here.”

Blaine’s face changed ever so slightly as his husband hugging both kids. The appearance of his face told Blaine he struggled.

Sighing, Blaine said into the phone, “How would you and Burt like to take care of the twins for a few week?”

More conversation from other end.

“I’ll talk to Rachel today. They have business to take care. I am sure they would like a break for some of it.”

Carole chatted on while Blaine’s thumb absently stroked the back Kurt’s hand.

“Yes, please and thank you.” Blaine hung up.

Blaine did not feel comfortable with things until their first moment of passion on the ship. It felt spontaneous and real. The ride up the river loosed Kurt up but playing Julie brought him out of his shell. The sight of that smiling face pleased his lover and friends. The kids even noticed the difference when they skyped. Kurt played enthusiastic games. Watching brought up emotion. Rachel and Jesse missed their child as well. The Hummel’s graciously agreed to take on the responsibility of the St. James baby as well. They had their hands full, but the look of Carole’s face proved a happy point.

Before splitting up two friends had a quick chat. Sitting on the upper deck of a restaurant patio, Rachel sighed. Sipping her wine she said, “The last couple of day have been good.”

“Yes,” Blaine smiled. “It feels as if normal may be returning.”

“It was tense there for a while.”

“I don’t honestly know how we survived.”

“Blaine,” Rachel put her hand on his. “You two have adored one another since high school. Yes, there have been problems but we all have them. Jesse and I have our thorns.”

Blaine grinned. “You and Kurt are close.”

“He’s my best friend. I would never abandon him to the wilds of the world.”

“I did.”

“Blaine.”

The man frowned and changed the subject. “And that skype call.”

“Tough love.” Rachel admitted.

“I was furious with you.”

“I know but I did it was as much for Kurt as I did you. He slept on the couch the whole time.”

“Did he hear?”

“I suspect so. He played coy when woke up but I could see it in his face.”

“It’s been hard on him.”

“It’s been hard on both of you but you two are lucky. Not many people find their true loves.”

“Finn was yours.”

Rachel’s head drooped. “Yes.”

Blaine smiled. “You have been a good friend through all this. Thank you for coming with us this far.”

“You two are special.” Rachel paused. Sipping her wine she looked thoughtfully at Blaine. “Are you going to be alright?”

“I love him so much. That side trip to Salzburg did wonders.”

“Yes, it did for both of you. If you need us, we are only a phone call away. Jesse might be stuck but I can get away.”

“Thank you Rachel but I do not want to ruin the fun for you two.”

“Jesse is going be crawling over theatres. I guess I could just sing.”

“You’ll sing, if only to remind your wayward husband not to forget the roses at dinner.”

“Speaking of dinner.”

Blaine nodded.

Rachel suddenly caught Blaine’s arm. “Don’t forget Kurt’s roses.”

Blaine kissed Rachel on the cheek.

The St’ James’ would not return to the United States until three weeks after the second honey moon ended. Blaine and Kurt planned to spend that time in Lima before tackling Broadway. They missed their kids even though they skyped with them every night. In no way did it make up for holding their two precocious children. Grandparents reported everything went well and, yes, they spoiled them. Pam seemed more at ease. That made Blaine feel much better.

To their surprise, Cooper announced he would be coming to Lima shortly after the love bird arrived. Regardless of his heavy schedule, he often travelled to New York to check up on his younger brother and his husband. The things revealed in courts shocked him. He wanted to do something special with them.

Even as he caressed Kurt’s smooth hand Blaine slowly rolled over. Leaning on one elbow, he watched the man he adored sleep. The thought of seeing Kurt at peace soothed frayed nerves. His handsome husband lay beside him slathered in sunscreen, his body mostly protected by the shade of a huge umbrella. The tiny, bright blue European cut swim suit fit him, oh so well. The sight made Blaine proud. He sported a similar pair himself. In fact he bought three. Kurt worried about his alabaster skin. Blaine’s Eurasian heritage provided the base for a golden tan.

Their hotel rested on the top of the cliff above them. Stone stairs twisted down the rocker slope to a pristine white beach at the end of a small cove. A warm wind blowing in from the ocean kept the temperature comfortable. Higher up, in the middle of the day, it got blistering hot. From one until four the boys lounged on the balcony of their spacious room. Protected from the blistering sun and cooled by a large fan, they lay side by side on a queen sized chaise.

Leaning in close, Blaine blew a puff of air against Kurt’s ear. It twitched. Doing it again, his husband swatted at the intrusion. The third time Kurt eyes opened. Smiling up at the unshaven man gazing at him, he blinked. “Time to go back up.”

“Unless you want to become a lobster, dearest.” Blaine lightly kissed his husband. No one on this beach cared.

“Are we going out tonight?”

“You have a date with Aleixo?”

“He’s cute.”

“And?”

“He can dance.”

“And I can’t.”

“You dance in a different way.”

“Yeah, right.”

“You’re jealous.”

“Perhaps.”

Kurt smiled and then planted a kiss squarely on his husband. “I’m more than happy with the model I have. So you’re stuck with me.”

“You’re such a liar.” Blaine grinned. “You loved that lap dance.”

“But no one fills my lap like you do.”

Blaine flushed. “I certainly have no complaints about your accoutrements.”

Kurt winked. “I don’t know about you but these skimpy little things won’t contain us much longer.”

Glancing at Kurt’s bulge. Expanding skin pocked through. Blaine innocently said, “Probably not.”

“You want to?”

“I thought you would never ask.”

The boys grabbed up their things and ran up the one hundred steps to their hotel. The view from the fourth floor looked out over the swimming pool to the edge of the cliff. The angle did not permit them to see the beach. To the right and left land jutted out into the Atlantic. Dense tropical plants hugged one side of the cove and private dwelling and another resort the other. The vegetated side marked the southern boundary of a large civic park. Though the building butted onto a busy street, the seaward side heard none of it. Budget dictated where they went. Originally they looked at staying in Lisbon but when they accepted additional financing they moved up the coast a little bit and lengthened their stay. The bus stop in front of the boutique hotel took them right into the heart of the city.

Central Europe had its charms but the people, food and atmosphere of Portugal relaxed. It made for carefree days with no agenda. Walking out the front door and simply turn right or left dictated a choice. Out for dinner one night the loud happenings at a table in the next café attracted their attention. When a drag queen showed up, the sort of followed along. Though they had no desire to flirt with anyone but themselves handsome, swarthy Aleixo took a shining to Kurt. He danced about the pair toying and cutting in. Shimmying up and down Kurt, the manner in which he pressed his pelvis here and there he made his intensions blatantly obvious. A little put out, Blaine countered by making a very pointed statement. He took Kurt, dipped him and stuck his tongue down his throat. Unperturbed, Aleixo shamelessly pursued Kurt and even tried to get someone to distract Blaine. The challenge set and accepted, the two lovers played off one another. Shortly before one in the morning and after a number of drinks, Aleixo zoomed in on someone with a maple leaf on his shirt.

In the middle of all this, one if the local drag queen took a fancy to both of them. Chatting up a storm, the middle aged man neither offended nor tried to hump the younger men. She/he genuinely wanted to have fun. Thus, Blaine and Kurt found themselves hanging around with jovial follow and his friends.

The next day, Candy Sombrero as she called herself, invited them to his house. High up on a hill, the place amazed the young men. The interior looked like something Liberace would have lived in. Bright and colourful in the Spanish style, posters from old movies from the forties, fifties and sixties lined one hallway. In his youth Candy lip synced his way across Europe. The afternoon bloomed into a party filled with song, wine and homemade food. As the sun started to dip, several of Candy’s friends showed up. They ended up in one of the big dance clubs where Candy preformed. For the first time in months the boys let their hair down and really camped it up. Prancing about the dance floor, both ended up on stage with various drag queens. Singing their hearts out, the languages did not mix but the crowd did not care. Candy dropped the boys off at their hotel about five in the morning. Staggering into the suite, they nursed their hangovers on the beach.

An hour and a half after retreating up the slope, the boys lay naked in the shade of the balcony. Vigorous physical activity cured their ailments leaving them pleasantly exhausted. Cuddled up on the thick cushions of a large chaise, Blaine read the latest Broadway news. Kurt pushed his head against Blaine’s chest and played with the light hair. A few minutes later he drifted off to sleep. Reading a bit longer, Blaine eventually put his tablet down. Arms wrapped about his husband he listened to his quiet snoring. Part of the pact of love meant you endured those little things about someone. Kurt slept silently compared to Blaine. He sometimes complained about the thunder rolling from the other side of the bed. The lovely man often pushed to get Blaine to roll over. It meant snuggling and sometimes something a little more interesting.

The shadows stretched around them as the noon passed toward evening. Feeling utterly content, Blaine day dreamed. Back in Dalton, the Warblers sang. A pasty faced boy stood in the middle of the doorway wearing a dark gray patterned jacket with a bag slung over his shoulder. Raising his voice with his friends Blaine found his eyes constantly drawn to the timid boy. For some reason it felt as if something unseen reached out tapping him in the shoulder. Old Blaine understood it better than his younger self. Throughout his life he saw those two men waking up a hills holding hands. Now, with his love at peace beside him, he finally began to comprehend the feeling of warmth enveloping him. Somehow, the man he loved hovered somewhere close by. This odd sensation made him think of the balcony. His love lay there as he did now. He looked so peaceful, so at home and beautiful. In the present, the horror of the past would not bother Kurt anymore. Six decades ago, things turned out very different.

Out of the blue Kurt suddenly yelled. His body jolted and then he drew himself up into a ball. Shocked, Blaine recoiled and then suddenly pulled his shivering husband into his arms. The last time this happened they walked through central park. A side effect of everything he endured, the anxiety attack dredged up hidden terrors only Kurt could comprehend.

Drawing the shuttering man tightly against his body, Blaine spooned him. Resting his nose against the back of his husband’s neck, he listened to Kurt’s sobs. Every so often his husband would stiffen or gyrated uncontrollably. Blaine hated this. He hated the man who caused it all. He should have realized it had not ended. Self-worth collapsed. The demons he thought exorcized returned with a vengeance. Darkness touched him and then his heart seemed to pause. He felt utterly useless. Fears, wants, desires, hatred, guilt and so much more played through him. The doctors said the subconscious released things the drugs suppressed. Blaine blamed the hypnosis.

What could he do other than hold him and wait for the emotions to play themselves out? His own feelings swam within a pool of boiling water. He could just scream and then he would not. Kurt meant everything to him. Freaking out would not help. It spoiled so much of the past six months. Anger begot madness. No, Blaine demanded love. Tears welling up in his eyes.

For a moment his mind did nothing. The man he held shivered as tears flowed from heavenly blue eyes. Suddenly and without thought Blaine began to sing.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UhUrdaQK_mI&list=RDUhUrdaQK_mI&nohtml5=False)

  
_What would I do without your smart mouth?_  
_Drawing me in and you kicking me out_  
_You got my head spinning, no kidding_  
_I can't pin you down_

_What's going on in that beautiful mind?_  
_I'm on your magical mystery ride_  
_And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me_  
_But I'll be alright_

_My head's underwater but I'm breathing fine_  
_You're crazy and I'm out of my mind_

_Cause all of me_  
_Loves all of you_  
_Love your curves and all your edges_  
_All your perfect imperfections_

_Give your all to me_  
_I'll give my all to you_  
_You're my end and my beginning_  
_Even when I lose I'm winning_  
_Cause I give you all of me_  
_And you give me all of you, oh_

_How many times do I have to tell you?_  
_Even when you're crying you're beautiful, too_  
_The world is beating you down_  
_I'm around through every mood_

_You're my downfall, you're my muse_  
_My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues_  
_I can't stop singing_  
_It's ringing in my head for you_

_My head's underwater but I'm breathing fine_  
_You're crazy and I'm out of my mind_

_Cause all of me_  
_Loves all of you_  
_Love your curves and all your edges_  
_All your perfect imperfections_

_Give your all to me_  
_I'll give my all to you_  
_You're my end and my beginning_  
_Even when I lose I'm winning_

_Cause I give you all of me_  
_And you give me all of you_

_Give me all of you, oh_

_Cards on the table, we're both showing hearts_  
_Risking it all though it's hard_

_Cause all of me_  
_Loves all of you_  
_Love your curves and all your edges_  
_All your perfect imperfections_

_Give your all to me_  
_I'll give my all to you_  
_You're my end and my beginning_  
_Even when I lose I'm winning_

_Cause I give you all of me_  
_And you give me all of you_

_I give you all of me_  
_And you give me all of you, oh_


	18. Public Outing

“You sure you want to do this,” Carole asked. She stood holding Burt’s hand facing her step son. Her husband’s bald head glistened in the light shining from overhead. Dressed in not quite her Sunday best, her style off attire spoke to the importance of the event.

Resting a hand on his son’s shoulder Burt, smiled. “I think you already know the answer to that, my dear.”

Glancing up at her husband, her head bobbed back and forth. “He’s been through enough.”

“This thing he is about to do shows all of us just how strong he is,” Burt beamed.

“He’ll, be fine Mrs. Hummel,” Cooper commented from a few feet away where he waited with Pam. His mother held little Barbara in her arms. Rachel and Jesse’s daughter squirmed wanting to be let down.

“So formal?” Carole questioned. Her brow furrowed.

Blaine’s older, moderately famous brother grinned. “You’re being a bit of a mother hen.”

Rolling her eyes, Carole laughed and then hugged Kurt. He son wrapped his arms about her.

Blaine crouched from the edge of the curtains holding twin’s hands. The two kids watched with awe at the huge space and all the people filing into it. Kate stood there boldly. Alex hugged his father’s knee. In a calm tone, daddy B told the two a short tale about a time when he stood on the stage. Kate asked innocent questions that made Blaine smile.

The McKinley’s auditorium looked different. A new stage, lighting and seats made it look so different from Blaine’s days in Glee. A waffle ceiling helped reflect the sound better taking away the need for amplification. Balconies added seating. Obviously Sue had little to do with the renovations.

The hours running up to what quickly approached passed in restrained silence. The family went on with their business while Kurt and Blaine sat together in Kurt’s old bedroom. It looked like it had in high school. It brought back nostalgically hot memories. Kurt smiled as he walked about picking things up. He told his husband about each one. Not wanting to ruin the mood, Blaine let him ramble on. Though he could see the fear in his husband’s eyes, Blaine noticed the edge fade. Kurt’s melancholy worried him.

Pam and Cooper joined the Hummel’s for breakfast. It felt like a family gathering before church even though the week had barely passed the midway point. Cooper greeted his younger brother in the usual fashion. Blaine cringed.

The Hummel’s put on a fine spread proving the old man could cook. Kurt spend a considerable amount of time civilizing his father. Eggs benedict with a real hollandaise sauce, beacon, homemade hash browns, toast, fruit and cereal for the children. The three kids played with one another obviously not aware of the tense event looming in the near afternoon. It felt like a special moment. Blaine loved it. The support they showed. Rachel and Jesse skyped from Prague. Mercedes from Tokyo. Artie and Tina called from South Africa where they made his third Hollywood feature film.

The family traveled in three vehicles to their school. In the intervening years the campus had expanded. The stands of the football field had become a dance and film studio. The middle of the sports field had been dug out. An outdoor amphitheater sat there now. Sports still had its place in the school but not in the way it has in the past. Gymnastics helped the balance of dancers. The track and obstacle course gave students a venue to relieve stress. Baseball and basketball remained. The Finn Memorial garden grew up around the lush tree Kurt planted all those years ago. They never did find out who took the original. Before going inside the family gathered there to give thanks and to remember.

As the moments ticked on Blaine glanced his shoulder at the man he idolized. Kurt privately struggled with whatever had been dredged up. Blaine suddenly found himself thinking of an afternoon on the balcony. It took an hour for Kurt to calm down and finally sleep again. The next two days proved to be trying. They lingered around the hotel taking long walks along the beach and through the park. The enthusiasm Kurt had been expressing evaporated. Flight plans changed so did the busy schedule of a congressman.

Upon seeing his dad, Kurt hurled himself into his steady arms and buried his face in his chest. Walking up behind him, Blaine placed a hand on Kurt’s shoulder even though his eyes feel upon Burt. Over Kurt’s head, Burt gazed back. The past few months had been hard on him. The grid lock in congress and his son. It showed in the manner in which he held his kid. Their return to Lima had been filled with hugs of screaming kids. Presents all round, as festive mood prevailed. The general mood improved.

The musical director for the New Directions excitedly insisted they get together. The afternoon started out fine but things got a little weird as the day wore on. Sitting in Breadstix, a, young, beautiful woman showed up and proceeded to give Sam crap about missing their date. Kurt and Blaine found the embarrassing moment vaguely amusing considering Sam’s history. Still best friends, Sam and Blaine joked around with one another as they had in the old days. As his husband watched, Blaine could see both his annoyance and that strange look of happiness. Blaine honestly believed reliving some of the old stuff helped the dear man. Seventy two hours later he supported Kurt in his great endeavour. Blaine could not be prouder and any more worried. His husband took a huge gamble.

Slowly standing Blaine walked the children over to the waiting family. Pausing for a moment he glanced to the other side of the stage where the news crews waited. One on the floor several cameras stood at the ready. Pulling a few strings, Burt ensured the message would not be lost. Two other congressmen and four senators had agreed to join them. Democrats and republicans alike, they all pressed their brethren to be take a tougher stance.

Smiling at his husband, Blaine leaned in and kissed him on the check even as Kate grabbed at daddy K. Bending down, Kurt pulled both children close giving them meaningful kisses. He gazed at them for a moment and then said loud enough for his family to hear, “This is for you Kate and Alex. May you never have to face what I have?”

Careful not to mess Kurt’s manicured hair, Blaine stroked his ear. Stepping out onto a Broadway stage always made one feel apprehensive. This felt very different. Elsewhere, a spark of pain rolled through an old man’s chest. Even now, at the end of their dream together, the events of that day lingered within his head. Somewhere in his soul two men looked at one another. Candle light surrounded them as they leaned against one another. One read to the other.

Looking up Kurt said, “Have I told you today, I love you.”

“Often,” Blaine whispered.

Taking Blaine’s hand in his, Kurt kissed it. “Blaine, you have always made all this worth it. All of you make it this worth it.”

“We’re all here for you, Kurt,” his father commented. He patted his son on the back and then suddenly he pulled Kurt into a bear hug. He whispered. “I never did this enough with Finn.”

Carole grasped Burt’s arm squeezing it. They kissed.

When Kurt pulled away from his father, Blaine took his hand. “I said I would never leave you.”

“Having you with me, make this easier.” Kurt placed his head on Blaine’s shoulder.

Squeezing his husband’s hand, Blaine said, “For better and worse.”

Accepting a kiss from the man he loved, Blaine’s heard felt light.

“Here comes Schuester,” Burt said, looking to his left.

Will Schuester looked older. Well they all did. Thinner hair and worry lines made him look more seasoned than old. Under his tutelage McKinley became model for the nation. With patience, talent and a few explosions, he worked his way through the system proving reading, writing, arithmetic and science could live harmoniously with the arts. Would-be singers, dancers, writers, painters and film makers, poets, scientists and sports stars passed through the doors. Some transferred but the majority made the journey to the other side. Some hit it big but most went on with their lives thankful for the chance of self-expression.

Emma and her three children sat in the audience along with a couple of old friends who arrived on short notice. Santana and Britney looked as they had the day of their wedding. Having arrived this morning, they briefly greeted the boys. Not surprisingly Brittany brought up the fact they had not been spending their anniversaries together. With ten years quickly approaching she made demands. Blaine half-heartedly agreed to discuss the idea. Santana gave him a look. Brittany glowed. The quirky mathematical mind got her involved in a huge project financed by the people running the SET Project. One of her off in right field brainstorms may revolutionize the way communications signals move through space. Santana endured. She had her moments on screen and stage but now she contented herself with raising their son. Sam donated.

“We’re ready to go,” Principal Schuester rubbed his hand together as he had at the beginning of each Glee Club practice a dozen years ago. “Sam’s herding the press into place. So we might as well all go out there.”

“You ready for this, dear?” Blaine softly asked Kurt.

Leaning in, Kurt kissed his husband and said, “With you…with all of you...I can face anything.”

“That’s my boy,” Burt grinned. He turned to the six federal politician standing off to one side staring at their cell phones talking. One of them got the hint and gave the others a nod.

Together, they trooped out onto the stage where plush couches arrayed out in an easily curving arch. Holding Kurt’s hand left hand on his right. Blaine’s tried not to crush Alexander’s tiny fingers with his other. Katherine walked resolutely beside Kurt. Pam carried Barbara. Settling onto the center couch Rachel’s child pulled way. Cooper caught her and scooped her up. Around them the rest of the family and politician sat around them. The audience clapped. The volume indicating not all of them enthusiastically attended this mandatory assembly. Sprinkled amongst McKinley’s nine hundred students, several parents and members of the school board watched. The students had been told they the meeting had to do with drugs. Schuester took a chance setting this up. No one thought the break between two sets odd.

Will Schuester introduced all of them in turn. The Hummel’s received a loud round of applause. The auditorium they sat in had been renamed after their son. Everyone who entered passed Finn’s picture. The memorial to him sat off stage in a scared place beside the picture of the first glee club coach.

Each politician got up and said their piece. Blaine worried they would hog the limelight but they kept it brief. From the couches they spoke into microphones. In their own way spoke of drugs, bulling and the effect they had on society especially how they affected the lives of the young. Burt’s words took a side trip reminiscing about his journey with a young Kurt. Sitting next to a precious man, Blaine proudly held Kurt’s hand. He wanted all of the young people before them to see exactly how they loved one another.

Burt introduced his son with little fanfare and handed him the microphone. He stood and walked toward the edge of the stage. He stood there for a moment sizing up the crowd and then he began to speak. Elaborating on what his father has said he passionately spoke of the punishment he endured in McKinley’s halls. To make his point he suddenly, and to the surprise of his family, introduced David Karofsky. The former bully walked out from the back to the stage holding the hand of a tall, handsome man wearing a light brown suit. Four very officious men in dark blue suits walked right behind them. In the middle of the group walked the President of the United States, Hillary Clinton and her husband. From the side two older teenagers wheeled another couch out sliding it between the one a surprised Blaine sat on. The audience rose in with loud applause and cheers. Kurt and David embraced one another while the Clintons silently sat next to Burt and the family.

Flabbergasted, Blaine stared at his husband. Chin hanging down he really wanted to know how he had pulled this off. Then, he suddenly smiled as if the light bulb went on. The little bugger. The dear, dear man has just made a statement that would ring beyond national boundaries. Amazed by his husband’s cunning, Blaine shifted Katherine on his knees. Pulling Alex close he whispered his pride to them.

It hit the national news in seconds. The schedule placed the national couple at Camp David yet, here they sat listening as Kurt and David recalled all the bullying, the death threats, thoughts of suicide and attempted suicide. Words passed between them about how one of them helped the other through the toughest period of his life and now he now returned the favour. They spoke of family, how the Anderson’s and Hummel’s accepted and the Karofsky’s disowned. Then David pointed at the man on the couch sitting beside the president and how Kurt had given him a dream.

When David went to join Phil, Kurt stood there all by himself holding the microphone. No one said a word for the longest time. Blaine’s heart skipped a beat. Slowly Kurt emotionally explained the horrors he endured this past year and the love of the man he adored, his kids and family. With passion he talked about the date rape drug and how it has been used to manipulate him. Not going into detail, he told the audience of his fears, doubts. All this from a drug dropped into a cup of coffee.

Finding it hard to control his emotions, Blaine clutched his children. This thing his husband did went far beyond merely releasing the monsters in his spirit but all those in the room. The mood shifted from one of confusion and why am I here to something very profound. Teenagers, faculty, parents and the hardened press watched utterly amazed by the sudden rush of sentiment racing through the large room. If Kurt had political ambitions he has just announced his candidacy to the entire United States.

Briefly Blaine found himself looking to David. Phil held Karofsky’s hand tightly. The look on Phil’s chiseled face told a familiar story. David half smiled at Blaine. The two men had lived together for a couple of months. Regardless of circumstance there would always be something there. Happiness and forgiveness became an important thing.

The president briefly smiled at Blaine. The two had met twice before. She sat there with her arm about Phil while holding the hand of a former president. It seemed almost surreal. The most powerful woman in the world did not say a word.

Kurt spoke on and then, he glanced back to Blaine holding out his hand. Passing his kids to their grandparents, Blaine went to join the man he loved. Kissing Kurt firmly on the cheek, he wrapped his arm about his waist.

Kurt asked Blaine to speak from his point of view. Instead of speaking, the former Warbler raised his voice in song. Years ago, he sang the same song the day they found out about Karofsky suicide attempt. The effort became a solo. Tears rolled down his face.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JdfuhAoA_9M)

  
_Life's too short to even care at all oh woah oh,_  
_I'm losin' my mind, losin' my mind, losin' control._  
_These fishes in the sea, they're staring at me waoh oh,_  
_Oh oh oh oh,_  
_A wet world aches for a beat of a drum,_  
_Oh._

_If I could find a way to see this straight_  
_I'd run away_  
_To some fortune that I should have found by now_  
_I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down, come down._

_Life's too short to even care at all oh_  
_I'm coming up now, coming up now, out of the blue oh_  
_These zombies in the park, they're looking for my heart_  
_Oh oh oh oh_  
_A dark world aches for a splash of the sun oh oh_

_If I could find a way to see this straight_  
_I'd run away_  
_To some fortune that I should have found by now_

_And so I run now to the things they said could restore me,_  
_Restore life the way it should be._  
_I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down_

_Life's too short to even care at all oh_  
_I'm losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control_  
_If I could find a way to see this straight_  
_I'd run away_  
_To some fortune that I should have found by now_

_So I run now to the things they said could restore me,_  
_Restore life the way it should be._  
_I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down_

_One more spoon of cough syrup now oh_  
_One more spoon of cough syrup now oh_

When his voice finally died away, the auditorium was utterly still. In their own way every person in the auditorium had shed a tear. Blaine threw his arms about his husband. His heart exploded with pride. The entire theatre rose to their feet cheering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, yet another wedding.


	19. Aftermath

Walking the quiet halls, Kurt and Blaine held hands and, in turn, gripped tiny fingers. After the zoo, the solitude felt good. Distracted by something set into the wall, Kate hauled Kurt away from his husband. Smiling, Blaine wanted to slow but Alex plodded on. Looking back, his eyes nervously fell upon their official looking shadow lingering respectfully behind. Blaine found it hard to imagine a life where someone always watched and would die for you. How could children live and grow with such restrictions. He suddenly glanced down at his son. Would the press hound the children? Thinking about it made Blaine angry.

Regardless of the strength he showed today, Blaine worried about Kurt’s fragile state. Next week they would be back in New York where they intend plowing into an ambitious production. During their last talk with Rachel, her husband continued to voice his concerns. Hesitantly, Blaine and Kurt agreed to consider alternatives. How would those stresses play themselves out? Would Kurt react when walking back stage? How would the tight knit Broadway community react? Blaine could not really be sure how to cope. Some part of him continued to blame the man he loved. Another part simmered in the guilt of having abandoned him. Then, perhaps he worried too much. 

Kneeling before his son, Blaine straightened Alex’s cute little buttoned double breasted sweater. Kurt had his hand the choices his son made. While the parents bought things, the kids ultimately made the choice. Many times one parent or another returned things because one of their children did not like it. Why did Blaine think of this at that moment? 

“What were all those people yelling for?” Alexander asked his father. 

“Daddy K did something very brave today,” Blaine told the five year old. “They showed their appreciation.”

Alex pulled at his father’s sleeve. “Who was that lady?”

Blaine blinked. He considered his answer for just a second. The whole affair left him unsettled. “Which one?”

“The one who came in late.”

“Ah, she’s very important, Alex.”

“You’re important.”

“I would like to think so.” 

Alex hugged his father. “You’re the chief.”

All of a sudden Kate pulled away from Kurt and tore down the corridor. Slamming into her brother, she wrapped her arms about him almost pulling him from his feet. Alex fought back and then two of them abruptly ran off screaming down the hall lined with metal lockers. 

Laughing, Blaine stood. Watching the twins he slowly turned to face the alluring man walking toward him. Taking his love’s hand he said, “They’re complicated.”

“No more than we are,” Kurt replied.

Swinging Kurt’s hand, Blaine looked back down the hall. The kids played with a musical instrument embedded in the wall beside a classroom door. In a quiet voice he said, “Are you alright.”

Lifting the hand holding his, Kurt kissed it. “The moment’s passed.”

“I worry about you,” Blaine returned the affection.

“I’m good, Blaine.” Kurt returned the kiss. 

“I admire you, Kurt. You handle things much better than I. All the shit you faced in school forced you to become strong. What did I do then, run. What did I do when…?”

“Blaine,” Kurt pulled his husband to an abrupt stop. “Listen to me. Yes, life hurts at times. Yes, it pulls us apart but it also brings us together. Considering recent events, we both have a right to be moody. The most important is to remember that I love you.” 

Blaine looked down at the floor. He gripped Kurt’s hand tighter. “I love you to but…”

“SH-h-h-h-h,” Kurt drew Blaine into a hug.

Pushing his head into Kurt’s shoulder Blaine said, “You are the best.”

“I would hope so,” Kurt giggled. Standing up the two men kissed. “You’re wonderful, sweet and sexy.”

“Flattery will get you everything.” Blaine smiled. He quickly glanced after their children. “Are you going to tell me how you pulled that off?”

Kurt’s fingers tightened about his husband’s waist. “I almost lost it.”

“I saw.” 

“I hope…”

Blaine saw where Kurt’s eyes went. The kids pushed the keys of the saxophone stuck in the wall. “I’m concerned as well. That could have gotten ugly.”

Kurt squeezed his husband’s hands. “Blaine, gods I feel…”

Facing his husband, Blaine took Kurt’s face in his hands. “Don’t say it, dearest. You stood up there and unzipped yourself before a thousand people.”

“And the whole nation by now,” Kurt glanced at his watch.

“This is only an appetizer.” Blaine smirked. 

Kurt smiled. “You said that to me once before.”

“And I will again, my delicious desert.”

Kurt drew in a deep breath. He watched the carefree twins. “We both want the limelight.”

“But not the problems.” Blaine’s tone had an edge to it. 

“Are you angry with me?”

“No,” Blaine stared into those heavenly blue eyes. “I couldn’t be prouder.”

Leaning his forehead against Blaine’s shoulder, Kurt said, “Honestly, I don’t even know why they would have bothered. Yes, we sang at her inauguration but this? I…?”

“I can answer your question,” someone said from behind.

Turning, the parents looked at David and Phil strolling hand in hand up the corridor. David looked the same as high school but older. Phil had that lean, swimmer’s look to him. Blond and beautiful, Blaine never dreamed David would find a stunning model type. At Scandals David went after and got chased by bears. 

“David, Phil?” Kurt called to them. 

Blaine glanced at his husband and then down the hall. Bitterness added an edge to his mood. He liked the couple but his family came first. 

“Surprise!” David exclaimed.

“More like a heart attack,” Kurt blurt out. 

Phil leaned on David and said, “Before you go all ballistic on my head, we were talking to Hillary about family stuff a couple of days ago. I mentioned Kurt had invited David to speak today and that I was going to be there to support him.”

Blaine made a face. Suddenly that innate sensation all parents had told him to look down the long hall. He called out, “Alex, Kate. That’s far enough.”

All eyes went in the same direction. Holding onto each other’s hands the twins turned. A few yards away stood another stern faced man in blue. 

“They’re adorable,” David commented. He sounded ill-at-ease.

“They can be a bit of a handful,” Kurt replied. He crouched down with his arm open wide as the twins ran down the hall. 

“When are you having one or two?” Blaine asked as he watched his husband brace himself. Family warmed his heart. 

“We’re thinking about it,” David replied with a grin.

“Changing the subject won’t get us out of this, David. “Phil looked directly Blaine. “Believe me, I had no idea until Bill and Hillary showed up.”

Two kids slammed into Kurt at full speed. Bowled over, he landed on his butt laughing as the two screaming children piled on top of him.

Watching Kurt go down, Blaine smiled. “I can’t believe they didn’t say a word until the Bill told the press off.” 

Watching the kids maul their father, Phil explained, “Hillary told me this was nothing political.”

“It’s political?” Blaine pointed out. He did not sound pleased. 

“Yeah,” Phil nodded. He glanced back at the shadow how trailed behind him. “I’m sorry.”

Blaine gave his playful husband a look.

David caught it glance and said, “What can we say?”

“It’s okay,” Kurt joyfully responded. Alex rolled over his chest and onto the floor. Kate grappled an arm. 

“No, it’s not.” Phil gave Kurt a sorrowful look. 

Hauling Kate from Kurt and into a hug, Blaine looked mildly upset. “We’ll see where this goes.”

Phil started to say something but then he turned. The secret service men said, “The president is ready to depart.”

Nodding, Phil looked apologetically at Blaine and said, “Hillary offered us and members of the house a lift back to Washington.”

Offering his husband a hand up, Blaine politely said, “You can’t keep the president waiting.”

“She can wait a few more minutes.” Phil replied. He looked honestly upset. “I know this might have placed you in a predicament and for that I’m truly sorry.”

David suddenly hugged the Anderson-Hummel’s and then said, “Call. Let’s get together.”

Standing in the middle of the hall with their kids, Kurt and Blaine watched David walk away. Silence prevailed until Kurt said, “That was uncomfortable.”

“When I come down, we can talk.” Blaine’s brow furrowed.

“Ditto but wow.”

Blaine grinned and took Kate’s hand in his. 

“Can you believe three and half years after the most wonderful day of my life, we would be at their wedding,” Kurt leaned into Blaine.

Old Blaine smiled. Back then they lived as a happy, sensual couple in a small three room flat a few blocks from Battery Park. Both went to school full time with scholarships helping with their expenses. The living room doubled as the bedroom with a lumpy futon taking center stage. Kurt gained a paid position at Vogue Dot Com and Blaine found himself working behind the scenes at the Metropolitan Opera. 

“Honey, I’m home.” Blaine called out.

“Just like the movies,” Kurt responded from the unseen galley kitchen. 

Blaine closed the heavy metal door. He sorted through fliers and mail in his hand. “Yeah, Goldie.”

“Mac and cheese tonight?”

“Add a little spice,” Mac and cheese got a little tired. Next semester they both had fewer classes. They might get a chance to save a bit more. 

“Curry?”

“Okay, but not too much.”

“Ah, your delicate stomach.”

“Your delicate nose.”

“You’re all heart.”

“Share and share alike.”

“No thanks.”

Blaine laughed. What he felt for Kurt grew stronger. Cooper told them to set a few minutes aside to discuss the day’s toils. The process of figuring themselves out produced some great sexual experiences and a true twosome. Blaine finally understood what Burt spoke of prior to his proposal to Kurt. 

Puttering around, Blaine took off his coat and hung it up in the tiny closet. He smiled. On the tiny café table they ate at sat a vase sprouting bright blooms. Regardless of the expense, flowers became a delightful ritual. 

Blaine sniffed the flowers. “There lovely, Kurt?” 

“Anything important in the mail, love?” Kurt’s replied.

“Something from that production agency,” Blaine sounded disheartened.

“They would have called if it were important.”

Flipping a six inch by four inch sliver white envelope in his fingers, Blaine opened it and pulled the stiff card out. “We’ve been invited to a wedding.”

Poking his head around the corner, Kurt wore a very bright apron. “Who?”

“David Karofsky.”

“What?”

Blaine held the card up so Kurt could see it. “David is marrying someone named Phillip.”

“Where?”

“Burlington.”

“Where’s that?”

“Vermont.”

Dressed in dark suits the boys walked into the Ascension Lutheran Church. The police presence outside concerned them. Gay marriages attracted protesters. Seated on David’s side near the back they spotted a few people Blaine knew from his days of dating David. One of the large men waved. As awkward as it felt, Kurt eventually hauled Blaine in that direction. At least they knew someone. 

Three hundred odd guests fitted all the seats with the exception of front on Phillip’s side. About fifteen minutes before the ceremony would begin a commotion at the doors caused all heads to turn. Several men in dark suites entered. Behind them walked Hillary, Bill and the rest of the Rodman clan. The ushers walked them to the front of the church. Kurt gaped. 

Held in a Lutheran church, a Methodist pastor presided over the hour long ceremony. After the happy couple walked down the aisle, the family and honoured guests began to file out. At some point it became blatantly obvious that no one from David’s family attended. The gathering of heavy set men replaced his natural family. They cried and laughed as the strolled by. Blaine found this sad. Notwithstanding past history, David turned out to be a nice fellow. Then Kurt returned to Lima. The night they met in the bar any hope of recovering from the disaster in New York quickly faded. David kissed his cheek and the look on Kurt’s face caused Blaine’s heart to flip. Poor David, Blaine used him terribly. 

The reception took place in a large private lake front residence south of the city. Five large white tents rested in the middle of a huge lawn backing onto Lake Champlain. A large, brightly lit Victorian house loomed up the slope amongst huge trees. Police boats patrolled the lake and a couple of helicopters buzzed along an unseen perimeter. The security officials checked invitations and then for anything that may be considered a threat. Secret service agents wandered about the grounds and watched from the roof tops. Kurt and Blaine had never experienced anything like it before. It angered Blaine there had been no warning.

Sometime after dinner David dragged his newly minted husband in their direction. Smiling, he called to the couple, “Kurt, Blaine.”

Spinning around their bored expressions faded as the consummate actor took over. 

“Ah, this must be Kurt,” Phil said as he shook the man’s hand. “David told me much about you.”

“I’m happy to meet you Phillip,” Kurt shook Phil’s firm hand. 

“You can call me Phil.” He offered his hand to the other gentleman. “You must be Blaine.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Phil.” Blaine studied David. The man looked happier than Blaine has ever known. He felt that odd hint of jealousy. He twitched. 

“How did you meet?” Kurt blurt out. He bumped his shoulder reassuringly into his loving husband. His left hand sought into Blaine’s right.

“Can you believe it, he shoved his number in my pocket at a football game,” David pulled Phil closer.

Blaine laughed. 

“What?” Kurt looked puzzled.

“I’ll explain later,” Blaine replied with a wicked wink. Feeling his love’s hand brought a sense of calm. He always doubted.

Smiling David said, “I get that a lot.”

“Not anymore,” Phil proudly stated. His eyes had a glassy appearance.

Kissing his groom, David said, “Not anymore.”

Phil smiled and then he glanced over his shoulder. “How would you like to meet the Clintons?”

Blaine and Kurt’s chins dropped at the same time. 

“Of course they would,” David suggested. His eyes had that tipsy look. Grabbing Kurt by the arm, Blaine got dragged along. 

Blaine trembled when they approached the tent where the president and a former president talked. The first couple laughed at the comments of two teenaged girls and the five older people sitting around them. Drinks in hand, they looked like they enjoyed themselves. Eyeing the grooms, Hillary rose and hugged them. 

The New York couple stopped in their tracks. Three stiff, authoritarian types stood discretely close by. Phil looked back and waved them on. “Hillary, Bill, I would like you to meet Blaine and Kurt Anderson-Hummel.”

Extending a hand the President of the United States firmly pressed the flesh. Bill had a softer touch. Glancing at Phil, she asked, “Friends of David’s?”

“We went to high school together,” David voice revealed a nervousness. 

Bill chuckled. “David, you’re a member of the clan now. We don’t bite.”

Phil placed his hand on David’s arm and said, “Kurt helped David during that terrible time.”

Hillary’s face hardened. She said, “You’re with family and friends now.”

“Yes, I am.” David glanced at two men. He looked pained for a moment. “I’m not proud of how I treated Kurt in school.” 

Kurt looked uncomfortable. Blaine squeezing his hand. 

“We have all done things we aren’t proud of,” Hillary said. Her eyes briefly went to her husband. “The important thing is you’ve moved through it.”

Leaning his head against David, Phil could not prevent himself from smiling. 

“David told us you got married right out of high school,” Bill suddenly asked.

“More or less,” Blaine replied. He felt awkward. David spoke to the president about them. The Clintons? He actually spoke to the two of the most powerful people in the world.

“Trail blazers,” the president commented with a broad smile. “Good for you. I should give each of you a metal.”

Kurt blinked. “We did not intend to at that time but friends of ours were getting married and, well it is sort of complicated.”

“It sounds wonderfully spontaneous. Never forget to have fun. It keeps things fresh.” Hillary pinched Phil’s cheek and added. “The night is still young. Get out there and show us old folks how it’s done.” 

Taking the hint, the newlyweds dragged Blaine and Kurt out onto the dance floor. Joined by family and friends, the couple eventually pranced off leaving Kurt and Blaine in one another’s arms. Holding each other, they parted at arm’s length and then came together again. Smiling and laughing, they sang quietly to themselves. 

Sweating in their suits, the boys eventually took a break. Sitting at the edge of the tent overlooking the lake they sipped on bubbly juices while leaning against one another. Enjoying the lights shimmering on the water they became aware of footsteps behind them. Turning, a middle aged man stood in the dim light. Blaine and Kurt started to rise. The man indicated for them to remain still. Pulling up a chair he sat. A little while later the grooms pressured the boys for a few of songs. A couple of weeks later they received an odd phone call asking them to audition for the lead roles for Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf.


	20. Back Stage

Opening night and a full house. Did they come out of curiosity or because of the events of the past year? The fallout came swiftly. Many of the conservative Broadway crowd accused the couple of grandstanding to further their careers. The local representative for the Democrats pressured the Kurt into running for office. Reporters hounding them. Radio talks shows and the cheering of students at the schools. Their visits expanded to include high school, colleges and universities. Invitations to fund raisers for various groups, society benefits and being special quests at the New York, Toronto and San Francisco pride celebrations. Then came the protests, threats and nastiness of right wing religious groups. Egg throwing outside a theatre, yelling and screaming. Events forced them to shut down one of their off Broadway productions. The lawyers continued to chew on that.

Private life suffered. They escaped with the twins to Lima for a few days. Burt had solid words. Then one afternoon they received a call from David. He and Phil were in Lima. Getting together they talked about this and that. Then Kurt mentioned an idea the boys had been talking about. Over lunch the four developed the idea for a foundation to assist teenage victims of bullying and unwanted sexual attention. The media scrum remained reasonably fresh and Phil suggested they take advantage of it. Then, before they knew it, the four of them sat before camera speaking to Oprah. They talked about the president of course but the main event circulated about their announcement of the foundation. The cash flow started immediately with the first donation coming from Oprah herself. Understanding how the system work, Phil became the obvious person to run the day to day operation. David assisted. Appearing on Ellen pushed their agenda forward. In time the foundation took over the role of organizing events in schools.

A few times they found reporters or some nut hanging around outside their apartment. With some help from their families, they seriously stretched their budget by purchasing a two bedroom condominium in a secure building on the southern edge of the West Village. At the same time they talked about private school but both fathers wanted the kids to have a well-rounded experience. Finally they settled on a gay friendly school close to home because the staff and students had experience dealing with fringe groups. More than just their future careers rested on the success of their present production.

Shaking his head, Blaine gravely considered events. Things had not really calmed down. The production stirred things up in both camps. A lot rested on the words of one man. Such power. Yet, he did not represent the end. They had another interview with Ellen tomorrow morning. The camera crew would set up in the theatre. The conversation would be casual with the activity on the stage as a back drop. Having the star here excited the cast, some of whom would be interviewed. A live audience and other guests rounded off her usual segment. The review would be out about the same time. For good or bad, Kurt and Blaine intended to read in it live.

Everything would be fine Blaine told himself as the curtain to the second act came down to enthusiastic applause. Standing in the wings, he watched men in fine Edwardian tuxedos and feminized Edwardian tuxedos vacate the stage. The crew swung into action moving backdrops and furnishings in preparation for the next act. Jesse stood in the other wing conversing with a ground of workers. Three months ago, Rachel’s husband talked them out of the most outrageous elements of the final act. Kurt pouted when the drag queens got axed but then he got his wish within an amazing and hopefully dramatic way.

Some of the cast jumped and hugged one another. To Blaine it meant they thought things went well. Most had never been on a Broadway stage before and he could understand their enthusiasm. Singing at the Metropolitan had been such a thrill. Both he and Kurt had the jitters but the killed it. Unfortunately the run had been designed for only a month. Excited reviews gave them a leg up.

Holding his fears to himself, Blaine had already gone through the next costume change. Broadway had experienced odd performances before but no one had put on an all-male version of My Fair Lady. They titled it My Fair Fellow. Kurt played Edgar Doolittle and Blaine, Professor Higgins. One of the casting requirement had been that everyone on stage must be gay or transgendered male. It made for a few interesting columns in the New York’s opposing liberal and conservative papers. The articles came down to nothing in the end. The papers used the production to feed their own agenda.

Blaine closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. The cast raced downstairs where the wardrobe and makeup people waited. The venue behind the curtain transformed from a spacious office library space into a something else with moving sub-stages. A departure from what most considered normal, the curtain would open only part way on the left at the beginning of the next act. As the scene moved on, it would be drawn back revealing several small rooms. They would be gradually transformed during the process of the act in such a manner the stage crew would not be seen. The complicated part came with running simultaneous scenes that complimented one another. It would start out as one scene and then morph into other with the script and song designed to balance each other. At the same time the principal actors transitioned between these mini scenes. The costume changes during the half dozen conversions proved to be an interesting technical feat. The wardrobe people earned their pay.

The last transition involved the entire cast having their clothing altered while on stage as the sets shifted around then. The final twenty minutes of the forty five minute act took place in a huge and richly ornate ballroom. Lighting, shear draping and screens had been designed to make it look as if carriage moved through the streets.

Ambitious best described what would come next. The audience should have noticed the subtle alterations in the second act. The final act accelerated things. This made Blaine more than a little anxious. Staring at the audience between the edge of the curtain and the wall, he watched them move about during the short intermission. Somewhere the critic for the New York Times mentally made his notes. Family and friends had prime seats. June and a few other New York socialites sat in private boxes. Judith made the trip over from England a couple of days before. The three of them remained close friends but sadly her husband passed away six months earlier. Kurt and Blaine went to the funeral. Judith said she had a special guest arrive this morning though she did not say who.

He glanced at his watch. Curtain call in eight minutes. Stepping back he glanced around. Everything looked as it should. Carefully constructed sets settled into place. The back stage crew moved the cleverly disguised wardrobe change areas into place. The shifts would be subtle at first but in the end the tuxedos would blossom into full formal ball gowns. The entire cast, except Edgar and Higgins, would be transmuted into women over the next thirty five minutes. Blaine and Kurt would end the act in full, white tie Edwardian splendor. The secret lay in layering and the use of lighting.

He almost jumped out of his skin when a hand fell lightly upon his shoulder. Quickly turn, Blaine let out a large puff of breath. Kurt stood behind him with an adoring smile.

“Sorry,” Kurt squeezed his husband’s shoulder.

Another breath escape Blaine’s lungs. “The critic hasn’t left.”

“I guess that is a good thing. No Sue?”

“Not yet.”

“Have you seen Judith’s surprise? “

“Nope, she up in a dark box.”

“We should march up there and take a peek.”

“Let’s not ruin it.”

“Perhaps you’re right.”

“How are you holding up, my love?” Blaine took his hand and kissed it.

Returning the kiss, Kurt whispered, “Does nervous fun describe it?”

“Yup.”

“Well, we’re both in good company. I think things are going well.”

“I have to admit Jesse’s suggestions seemed to have paid off.”

“I’m happy he didn’t kill all the funny stuff.”

“Satire of current politics is always good for a laugh.”

Kurt cringed.

“Are you really alright?” Blaine leaned in and kissed his husband on the cheek.

“If you mean a few weeks ago? I am doing fine.”

Blaine looked relieved. “I worry.”

“And I about you.” Kurt tightened his grip on Blaine’s hand. “We’ll pull this off, my dear.”

“If this next act flops we’re going to have to move to the Congo.”

“How many people do you think we’ll piss off?”

“It depends on how much the follow politics.” Blaine suddenly smiled. “I did enjoy rewriting the lyrics.”

“And the lawyers didn’t get too upset.”

“Copyright is copyright. At least we got it in writing.”

“I guess I have better get to my spot,” Kurt stated as the stage manager started to herd people into position.

“We’ll kill this,” Blaine hugged Kurt.

“See you on the other end.”

Kissing Kurt, Blaine watched him leave and make his way across the stage to the hidden room. The sultry wiggle of Kurt’s ass pleased him. His husband did it on purpose. Over time it became one of those little rituals to wish each luck. It started at NYADA and accelerated after they agreed that Blaine should move out. Doing little things to reaffirm their love helped.

Walking to his mark in the first room to be revealed, Blaine drew in a deep breath. Split by time two instances of the same person heard the words of a boy echoing in their heads. “Do you think I’m boring?”

The thought of his younger self dancing about his bed room made old Blaine smile. Back then, like now, his eyes set themselves on the boy in a greenish leopard print sweater kneeling on his bed. “Are you crazy? You are the single most interesting kid in all of Ohio.”

Sitting back on his heels, bashfully boyish Kurt replied, “I mean like, sexually. I mean, we are playing it very safe by not granting our hands visas to travel south of the equator.”

“Well, I thought that’s what we wanted.”

“It is.” Kurt nervously pulled at his sweater. “I’m just wondering, have you ever had the urge just to rip off each other’s clothes and get dirty?”

Still dancing about, Blaine had an odd look on his face. “Uh, yeah, but that’s why they invented masturbation.”

“So hot in this room, could we maybe open up a window?”

“Hey, I’m serious.” Blaine hopped up onto the bed. “We’re young, we’re in high school, and yeah, we have urges, but whatever we do, I wanna make sure that you’re comfortable. So I can be comfortable. And besides, tearing off all your clothes is sort of a tall order.”

“Because of the layers?”

“Because of the layers.” Old Blaine recalled the kiss.

“One hundred years is not enough? To short.” old Blaine said in a hoarse voice. He stared up at his lifeless husband. Tears filled his eyes and regret his heart. “I miss you, my dear. What is left? Wonderful memories but not the touch of your lips, your hand in mine or the beating of your heart in me ear. The little twist of your hips when you dance. The way you would whimper when tickled the right way. Those of the things of the living. They are what made you special. Your sweet voice harmonizing with mine. The way you toweled yourself off after a shower. Your fingers on my skin. Penetration and orgasm.”

Drawing in a deep, laboured breath, old Blaine lowered his head so that it rested on Kurt’s sleeve. Sniffing back tears, he began to sing softly to himself. Oddly he heard Kurt's youthful voice.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_irj-sD2Ggc)

_Mmmm, mmmm_  
_Say good-bye to not knowing when_  
_The truth in my whole life began_  
_Say good-bye to not knowing how to cry_  
_You taught me that_

_And I'll remember the strength that you gave me_  
_Now that I'm standing on my own_  
_I'll remember the way that you saved me_  
_I'll remember_

_Inside I was a child_  
_That could not mend a broken wing_  
_Outside I looked for a way_  
_To teach my heart to sing_

_And I'll remember the love that you gave me_  
_Now that I'm standing on my own_  
_I'll remember the way that you changed me_  
_I'll remember_

_I learned_  
_To let go_  
_Of the illusion that we can possess_  
_I learned_  
_To let go_  
_I travel in stillness_  
_And I'll remember_  
_Happiness_  
_I'll remember (I'll remember)_  
_Mmmmm... (I'll remember)_  
_Mmmmm..._

_And I'll remember the love that you gave me_  
_Now that I'm standing on my own_  
_I'll remember the way that you changed me_  
_I'll remember_

_No I've never been afraid to cry_  
_Now I finally have a reason why_  
_I'll remember (I'll remember)_  
_No I've never been afraid to cry_

_Now I finally have a reason why_  
_I'll remember (I'll remember)_  
_No I've never been afraid to cry_  
_And I finally have a reason why_  
_I'll remember (I'll remember)_  
_No I've never been afraid to cry_  
_And I finally have a reason why_  
_I'll remember (I'll remember)_

His voice trailed off. Weeping into Kurt’s sweater, his chest suddenly tightened and sharp tingling raced down his right arm. Both Blaine’s closed their eyes.


	21. The Play Must Go On

Nerves increased young breathing. In reality weakness struck. Sixty years ago he felt a parallel sensation right before the third act begun. Sweat rolled down old Blaine’s face. Drawing in a shaky breath sharp pain careened through muscle radiating throughout the body.

Struggling, he brought both hands together grasping motionless fingers. Fear gripped him. The body wailed against something no person could avoid. The mind ran in all directions at once trying to find that one logical thing that could make it all better. Floating in a sea agony, the heart felt oddly distracted. Things flashed within a fractured mind pulling him this way and that. Existence swirled and broke apart. Then the eye of the storm brought an odd sense of relief. Standing in the middle of the vortex stood two men. Staring into one another’s eyes, reflected flames danced across polished French styled furniture. Fear filled both as did a deep sense of belonging.

Young Blaine’s throat constricted as he sought the high notes of the first song. His older self, gasped for a very different reason. Wild pounding made it hard to concentrate. Stubbornness push out at aching muscles. The mind demanded the body pay attention. So many things remained undone. Everything in life circled about an adorable man. Breathe no longer moved his lungs and his lovely blue eyes had gone dark. The man he loved could no long see, hear or feel him. Yet, his scent remained to stir the imagination. He could, would not let go. Not enough time. He had to hang onto Kurt.

The purpose of life. What did it all mean? Why birth and the toiling through the years just too rudely end? Such a waste. To love as he had. As they had. To suffer the longing and the misery of anguish. Seeing children grow, go out and start their lives. To change their diapers and then have then return the favour in the failing years of life. The planet, the solar system, all the stars spun on for billions of years. Less than a century seemed like a drop in the bucket. A million years, still too little. The love Blaine felt for Kurt must carry on. If not, the universe be damned.

Six decades in the past, a man stood still as the curtain slowly pulled from the left. Washed in light his voice rose in a lament to Kurt’s Edgar. The stumbling, dock worker captured Higgin’s heart as it had Blaine. Even as the screen inched back and the first subtle transition took place, the words a song became lost within a swirl of fog. The essence of youth loved a single being. The howling of age loved a single being. In one moment of time the audience responded as the next scene ramped up. An older version sniffed back increasing sobs.

The third act moved along. Higgins and Edgar met in the second scene briefly and then Blaine transitioned back to the unfinished first. The two moved on simultaneously. In one Higgins spoke in the other Edgar sang. Passing the barrier between the two rooms, Higgin’s voice joined Edgar. Thus the finale act began to gain speed.

The light of the mind painfully dispersed. To sustain hope memory focused on his younger self. The ponderings provided courage and resilience. The aching in his chest diminished even as odd, burning tingling accelerated down his limbs. Within the vagueness of Blaine’s slipping existence a boyish voice filled his consciousness. Kurt sang of to his right. Then a conversion and the room changed. Blaine moved to Kurt through flowing fabric hiding a subtle costume change. His suit took on a more formal tone.

On opposite sides of the long, narrow set, the two started to sing. Supporting actors moved in and out of the scene providing harmonics. Slowly the principals closed the gap. Taking hands, their voices rose as Higgin’s finally confessed his undying love.

Pain spiked for a crying man dragging him away to another place. People clapped and the pressure causing a ghostly transference. Elements of multiple existences folded in upon one another bringing old Blaine to a set of stairs. Mouth slightly agape, he gazed down at a man dressed in a mustard jacket. Hair matted down with gel, he spoke in moving words offering up himself forever. The voice echoed in an aging head and down to the heart. Memory recalled it all perfectly, yet something seemed amiss. Music messed together in an uncomfortable manner mirroring the agony shooting through his being. Blaine stiffened and his mind grasped on the verses as if denying the final end.

Higgins and Edgar sang. Elisa and Higgins sang. The original nineteen sixties movie and the modern revival entangled together. Kurt’s voice and Audrey’s joined. Rex and Blaine became one. Superimposed upon on another the four slowly parted. Audrey and Rex moved to the right and Kurt and Blaine to the left. Taking hands the two veteran actors looked at one another and kissed. Pulling back Carole and Burt smiled at one another. Coils of mist rose up between them even as they paled. The murky incandescent shape twisted off to the left of center stage. Forming into a human silhouette, Finn stood there in jeans and a dark t-shirt. The translucency seemed to float amongst the actors of a Broadway stage. The third act moved on but at the same time old Blaine saw the stage at McKinley backed by red drapes. The apparition strolled to the center. His sad voice rose in song.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9yuMK_fRW4)

_Come up to meet you_  
_Tell you I'm sorry_  
_You don't know how lovely you are_

_I had to find you_  
_Tell you I need you_  
_Tell you I set you apart_

Threatened by pain and failing oxygen, an old man drifted once more onto that grassy hill. A man walked from the greenery and out onto the summit. Another man stood there wearing outdoor wear dating back to the first third of the eighteen hundreds. Their eyes meet. One of the men dimmed as the mystical landscape faded into the sets of a musical. The other morphed into Higgins as he stepped close to the edge of the stage. The actor began to sing. Old Blaine found himself focusing on a transparent stage in a familiar school where teenage Blaine’s voice resonated.

_Tell me your secrets_  
_And ask me your questions_  
_Oh, let's go back to the start_

_Runnin' in circles_  
_Comin' up tails_  
_Heads on the science apart_

A secondary actor moved briefly across the Broadway stage to take his mark carrying a silver tray. The formality of a tuxedo flowed away giving it an appearance of an odd dress. Santana stepped from this form into a thin, airy existence. A phrase rose from her lips even as a transforming man belted out his single chord.

_Nobody said it was easy_

Edgar and Higgins responded. In that ghostly place only advanced age could hear, teenage Blaine and Finn voices rose together.

_It’s such a shame for us to part_

Santana swirled around at the second an actor offering Higgins a drink. Harmonious tones became transformed into a coherent phrase.

_Nobody said it was easy_

Separated by time and reality, Blaine and Finn tones surged upward.

_No one ever said it would be this hard_  
_Oh, take me back to the start_

The setting shifted and Edgar stepped through the transition. A light flickered down from above. The body moved but then it seemed to have a shadow that acted differently. A boyish Kurt found himself next to teenage Blaine. His sweet vocals passed through the huge auditorium giving the audience goose bumps. Transcending the decades, the young tone haunted an old man.

_I was just guessing_  
_At numbers and figures_  
_Pulling the puzzles apart_

Another scene came into play. A golden blond with flowing hair in a transforming tuxedo-dress stood beside a footman. The dimness of McKinley brightened ever so slightly as a female form passed through Santana to stand beside her. Brittany’s calm nature picked up where a see through Kurt left off.

_Questions of science_  
_Science and progress_  
_Do not speak as loud as my heart_

Two more people moved into position on stage playing the roles of courtiers. Remaining on the fringes of the scene, the insubstantial forms of Will and Emma shimmered out of the two. Singing, they floated into misty McKinley.

_Tell me you love me_  
_Come back and haunt me_  
_Oh, when I rush to the start_

Vocalizing with the others, the spectral from of Rachel appeared out of nowhere a few feet from the transparent Finn. Their two voice rose above the rest.

_Runnin' in circles_  
_Chasin' our tails_  
_Comin' back as we are_

Many matching tones gathered on the Broadway stage. In the ethereal place within a declining mind the sounds of youth came together.

_Nobody said it was easy_  
_Oh, it's such a shame for us to part_  
_Nobody said it was easy_  
_No one ever said it would be so hard_

All of the phantasms raised their voices together with Rachel echoing above the rest. The crescendo of the third act roared toward climax.

_Aa-aa-ah (I'm goin' back to the start)_  
_Nobody said it was easy_  
_No, no, no, no (Yeah, oh woah)_  
_Nobody said it was easy_  
_No, no, no, no (Nobody said it was easy)_  
_Nobody said it was easy_  
_No, no, no, no (No, oh)_  
_Nobody said it was easy_

Two young men hugged to thunderous applause. The cast lined up for a bow to the audience as they stand. Four curtain calls later, Champaign corks flew. Each loud pop sent waves of agony through old Blaine. The heart thumped wildly within his ribcage. Brightness darkened.

The couch felt cold as the remembrance of his younger self singing swirled away into growing gloom. Heaviness took old Blaine’s limbs even though he somehow floated. A multitude of fingers joined those already around him. From behind the singers new inconsistent forms manifested themselves. In all fourteen sets of hands lifted him in a manner his physical self could not comprehend. No longer bound to a wheelchair, Artie stood proudly stood beside him with his fingers stretched out as if they held weight. Mercedes looked lively and filled with joy. Sam’s haggard looks had their boyishness once more. Brittany and Santana stood side by side. Tina smiled, her free hand holding a jar of vapor rub. Will and Emma faced one another, their hands pressed under Blaine. Rachel and Finn came to be side by side. Quinn found a place beside Emma and Mike beside Will. Puckerman held Blaine’s feet and Kurt his head.

Elsewhere a party went on for hours. June and others came back to congratulate the cast and principals. Hugs all around, old Blaine sensed something very different. Actors moved about as if in slow motion as bright lights dispersed into an ethereal haze. The wraithlike presence of friends soothed the soul but not the body. Parted, but held there by a delicate silver cord, Blaine sensed the admiration of his long dead acquaintances. The last of the group dwelling in the fragile edge of life, the mind held fast in stunned amazement. A dying consciousness perceived the temperance of reality. Not alive nor dead, an old man felt free of his discomfort.

Looking up his eyes feel upon Kurt. In one instant the man he loved stood in the finest, formal Edwardian white tie and tails. In another he lay slumped against a pillow, his eyes wide open and unmoving. Then, he looked so young. Half naked he rested on one elbow in the sun next to a river. Tall grass grew around them as a light, warm breeze raced down the slowly moving water. The man of his dreams lay on his back looking dreamingly up at him. Fingers etched a light path down his chest.

The music repeated itself in a diminishing loop. Dear friends serenaded him even as they lifted him higher. The brightness of a pin prick of illumination reached down from afar. Buoying the spirit, old Blaine shivered. Terror gripped him pulling misery into an obscure territory. The consciousness screamed out looking for a solution.

“Hush, my sweet,” a voice whispered within a dying man’s head. His youngers selves heard the tones but in different words and tones.

An old man blinked. His eyes moved even as his heart beat erratically in his chest. Amongst the suffering he felt the warmth of a gently embrace as if he met a dear friend after a long absence. The thought bewildered the logical mind while the spirit rose into a loving encirclement of so many loved ones. The sensation transgressed the years. On stage Kurt hugged him and the crowd rose to their feet with loud applause. Elsewhere a finger on fresh. In both occurrences men smiled. In the last, pain demanded life.

“My love,” that hushed voice echoed through the trees beside the river. The words expressed relief.

Within a mind lost in a foggy lane, friends faded like a wisp of cloud caught in the wind. The breeze carried Blaine into a large library where two men in their sixties folded their fingers together. Wearing the finery of the mid eighteen hundreds England they pledged their eternal love before a roaring fire. Adoring eyes told a story. Property and propriety demanded they marry, take on responsibility and carry on the family line. The truth of their love could not be articulated beyond the privacy of a dark room or the solitude of remote greenery. In a different place, two teenagers experienced their blossoming of love in world that marginally accepted. On stage two men openly kissed.

Tear streamed down old Blaine’s face. So much love. So much misery. Life swirled out of the bounds the mind could consider. Feet drifted away into numbness. Softening lights abruptly dimmed understanding. An old man faulted as life rallied against the inevitable. He had regrets, longings and temptations. Live had been perfect but then the flaws shown all about him. The man old Blaine looked upon had strength he could never muster. He loved him so.

“No, no, my love,” the haunting voice said in four times over through the distant years.

“Kurt?” Old Blaine struggled. A hand reached up touching the face of his love. Salty water rolled from his eyes when his love did not look back.

“Yes, love, it is I.”

“How?”

“Blaine, you must let go.”

Old Blaine paused even as memories of himself did. All three of them looked up. All three of them moved. The two men by the fire kissed. Blaine rolled over to look up at Kurt even as the sun shone in his eyes. Standing behind a drawn curtain, a husband absently twisted the wedding ring on Kurt’s finger. Passion lived there but then the convulsions of the living pulled the plug. Draining away in a twisting morass of pain it all seemed so useless. The hurt he has caused. The lack of belief. Selfishness and self-loathing.

The disembodied voice softly stated, “My beloved, suffering is not the path.”

Logic jumped. Kurt had passed from this world less than half an hour before. Movies and books portrayed it in the sense of logic but reality turned out to be something very different. The body felt fear beyond anything imaginable and the mind howled against everlasting darkness. From the bottom of his feet to the top of his head the living form demanded continuance. Yet, like all machines, it too must end. Internal organs shut down even as ego obstinately pressed on. Arrogance pressed on. The lingering eddies of human transience surged into foolishness.

A terrible gust of wind pushed the trees. Huge, dark clouds passed overhead. Two men cried. The shrill sound of an unwanted wife called to him. With the regret of the ages, he slowly pulled away. Fingers stretched to that last point and then he pressed his lips into the other man with such force they fell to their knees. Unbridled emotion erupted out into the years. To the living it meant everything. For a fleeting second Blaine understood time held more meaning than what the mind constructed. The idea pinged something deep within but then conscious thought and the meanderings of science dragged him back into pain. He could not let go. Yearnings held him. Fear encapsulated the soul dredging up those things destined to defeat the truth of human existence.

“No, my love, there is more,” Kurt whispered.

Something inside Blaine called out as agony exploded within the living form.

“No, Blaine,” the haunting voice called. “Look at me.”

Struggling, old Blaine lifted heavy eyes to Kurt. One stage hazel gazed at blue. In the light sparkling from rippling water two boys adored the appearance of arch other. In a century marked in history two men bathed by the flicking light of a fire pressed their lips together. The sentiment flowed in reverse toward the present. Gripped with excitement, young lips met. The passion of consummated love explode within the mouth of two singers. Somewhere Kurt stood next to a piano.

“Is this death?” old Blaine painfully grasped at the words.

“The end?” a two hundred year old man sobbed. A carriage waited down the slope, his bride unaware of the clandestine meeting.

“It’s over,” a tearful young man whispered to himself sitting beside a fountain in lonely New York.

“Do what you can,” a man demanded from a hospital bed.

“No, my dearest?” Kurt’s haunting voice said to all instances.

“No?” the Blaine's questioned in unison.

In the dim of a fraying life parched lips felt moisture press against them. Kurt’s aroma drifted on a soft puff of exhaled air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next installment, back to the start.


	22. Back To The Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, Sexual Content.

Lucidity pushed out at the machinations of the heart. All the things school taught yelled a single word; improbable. As a boy he went to church. As an adult he did not go as often as he should. His temple became the man he adored and the theatre. The stage no longer played an active role in his life and veneration slumped beside him. Loneliness prevailed. Lose surrounded all. The hungers of the mind argued with that higher place.

Yes, loneliness. It tumbled around him but then gentle phrases. A puff of warmth and then, how to describe it. A failing body felt relief as an image slowly formed. Blue blazers scurried down curving stairs beneath a white dome. Mirrors on the walls reflected dashing forms and the light from above. Hurried feet touched each step in quick succession. Passing classmates, Blaine found himself slowing. This person looked out of place. One, the missing jacket. Two, he wore shorts and sun glasses. What have we here?

Moving around this odd boy young Blaine felt a misstep even though his body smoothly carried him on. For a brief moment an aroma captured his attention. He knew it. Fanning across the narrow divide, the rushing boy found himself thinking of a warm meadow filled with sweet flowers. The silhouette of a human form blocked the sun. Naked, the mature man stood there gazing out into at the rolling water. Thin wisps of cloud drifted by, each of them looking like someone he should know. Far down the slope a plowed field waited the coming rains. The women he lived with, but did not love, moved about a building. He desired only the touch of the man who filled hidden moments with passionate warmth.

A teenager stood on a stair his foot frozen as if time stood still. Blaine felt something pull in his chest. Kurt lived no more but then he stood there almost right on top of him. An old man wanted to reach out to grasp him while his youthful self could not. The moment held them both as if somehow something said hello.

A foot almost caught itself on the edge of the last step. Keeping his dignity, for a brief second eyes shifted to the left. Old Blaine’s eyes followed. Wrinkles aside, the face looked the same. Smiling that odd sensation of being disjointed persisted. Part of him refused to believe, but that kiss. Yes, it has been a real kiss. A trembling finger touched his lips he felt the subtle hint of moisture. The tongue slipped over pink skin. An old man tasted familiar lip gloss.

So beautiful, his face overflowed with youthful exuberance coupled with a faint glow. Two men peeked across a table. Fine china, crystal and silverware sat perfectly in front of each guest. Dressed in his best white tie and tails, the host sat at one end of the long, narrow table and the hostess way down the other end. Friends and family arrayed in order of rank, two young men sat on an angle to each other. Hazel eyes caught the attention of blue as a stiff backed servant approached from the side offering a plate. Hazel eyes glanced and selected. A tiny morsel ended up on his plate. The real morsel lingered just out of reach. Seated beside his sister, the young noble found it hard to keep his eyes of the handsome young man. The heart pounded in his chest as that voice in the back of his head whispered - Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever.

A foot fell upon a step and Blaine found himself marching past. Some aspect of himself wanted to turn back but the past jealously guarded its existence. Regret echoed within his soul as his feet carried him down to the bottom.

“Excuse me,” someone said from behind.

At the bottom of a stair, Blaine slowly turned. Breathing slowly he gazed up into the same eyes from across the dining table. Separated by time, two young men smiled. In a meadow and hand traced a line down the back of the calf. An old man sensed more. Blue eyes stretched further than he expected. Time and time again they met.

“Um, hi. Can I ask you a question? I’m new here,” the boy finished.

“My name’s Blaine,” the boy sat the bottom of the stairs offers his hand.

The boy took the hand saying, “Kurt…”

The soul veered and latched onto glistening crystal stemware. In the reality at the base of the stairs, young Blaine did not realize this. On the other hand, old Blaine came upon a profound realization - Kurt’s mind echoed distant thoughts he should not have perceived. Delight, longing, lust and acceptance flashed within a strong, young agile awareness. Some element of the boy reached out grasping at ignorance. This thing moved at such great speed, the conscious mind barely comprehended. Logic wrestled with ideas it refused to admit. The subconscious grasped the obvious and manipulated rational thinking. Suddenly everything coalesced into a venue the soul could understand – song.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eguqZVxgMOQ)

_I don't know why I'm frightened_  
_I know my way around here_  
_The cardboard trees, the painted seas, the sound here_  
_Yes, a world to rediscover_  
_But I'm not in any hurry_  
_And I need a moment_

_T he whispered conversations in overcrowded hallways_  
_The atmosphere is thrilling here as always_  
_Feel the early morning madness_  
_Feel the magic in the making_  
_Why, everything's as if we never said goodbye_

Faint remembrances recalled a two teenagers hugged in McKinley’s courtyard. Kurt returned to his element. Happy and sad at the same time, those words – I will never say goodbye – whispered in a worried thoughts.

_I've spent so many mornings just trying to resist you_  
_I'm trembling now, you can't know how I've missed you_  
_Missed the fairy tale adventure_  
_In this ever spinning playground_  
_We were young together._

_I''m coming out of make-up_  
_The lights already burning_  
_Not long until the cameras will start turning_  
_And the early morning madness_  
_And the magic in the making_  
_Yes, everything's as if we never said goodbye_

_I don't want to be alone_  
_That's all in the past_  
_This world's waited long enough_  
_I've come home at last!_

Incredibly the notes rang out through time finding more than one heart. The ping returned as if some ancient sonar completed a sequence. Old Blaine sensed this ripple down from a failing heart into the forte of early life. Looking up from the base of the stairs, Blaine understood - Kurt sang this especially for him. Somehow the pressing of flesh connected them in a farfetched manner. Thoughts and emotions meshed together like the fingers of the right and left hands meeting. It felt so natural but utterly abnormal at the same moment. Time meant little. A blink seemed slow.

_And this time will be bigger_  
_And brighter than we knew it_  
_So watch me fly, we all know I can do it_  
_Could I stop my hands from shaking?_  
_Has there ever been a moment_  
_With so much to live for?_

_The whispered conversations in overcrowded hallways_  
_So much to say, not just today but always_  
_We'll have early morning madness_  
_We'll have magic in the making_  
_Yes, everything's as if we never said goodbye_  
_Yes, everything's as if we never said goodbye_  
_We taught the world new ways to dream_

Old Blaine physically cursed when the hand pulled away. For the briefest moment he felt something beyond life. Then that fleeting second tumbled away leaving him wanting more. Realization struck. Age meant nothing. He had no control over his body or his consciousness. Absurdly, he began to realize the things he felt, saw, tasted and heard resonated from his younger self. The battle of control pushed elsewhere creating an odd sensation of liberation.

A shiver ran up the back of teenager. An old man felt suddenly warm all over. The body relinquished its dreadful beat relaxing into a low throbbing. Old and young stirred with strength.

“…So what exactly is going on?” boyish Kurt asked as he eyes moved around.

“The Warblers!” Blaine replied with excitement. “Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the senior commons. Tends to shut the school up for a while.”

“So, wait, the glee club here is kind of cool?”

“The Warblers are like rock stars. Come on, I know a shortcut.”

Old Blaine exalted when their flesh smashed together again. In an instant he felt the puréeing of emotions, thoughts and timeless longing. Pulling Kurt down the hall, the conscious tripped on the trap of the subconscious. Tingling racked the body. Young and old, sensed belonging transgress all physical limitations. Logic grasped at straws. Could he go back to the start?

“Not that way, my love,” Kurt’s voice echoed with the ego of a dying man.

Agony crashed into old Blaine. The heart ripped itself in its prison. Fingers curled up and she senses scattered. The anchor pulled away sending him adrift. A scent faded into the depths of darkness.

“Blaine?” Kurt’s tone whispered in the expanding gloom. Waves of regret washed from that unseen place.

A fragile grasp on reality slipped. Old Blaine stared at his lifeless husband. The face pulled together revealing crushing distress. A warm wisp of air pressed against skin as if someone breathed. Pushing up against a rolling tear the pressure felt like a finger wiping the moisture away. Physically the man pulled back. Sensitively his heart jumped pushing the pain into compassion. Logic yelled no. The soul screamed yes.

The spectral tone of his love, whispered, “Listen with your heart.”

“How?”

“See us so young.”

The bulge in an old man’s pants swelled bringing a sense of amazement. In the twilight of their lives, sex waned into long naps lying against one another. In the past the mass of a young appendage increased in girth. The sensation shocked young Blaine as he trotted down the hall holding a beautiful boy’s hand.

An old man felt astonished shame and then he suddenly smiled. Parts of the body that could not be discussed in public tingled. Warm, white liquid splashed up against his face with pulsating strength. Above him a trembling boy gapped. The boy on his knees reassured him and started on an adventure that would mark their lives. Gentle administrations worked up pleasure so Blaine could take the other boy deep inside. The thought echoed through time where other men participated in the same rite. Two souls wrapped into one another. In Convulsing with the ecstasy of the eons, two nobles, two farmers, two warriors in bronze, two men swimming in the Nile and more swirled into the blessed event bringing the ultimate climax.

“Yes, my love,” Kurt’s words vibrated through youthful skin.

A wide smile pushed old Blaine lips wide. Eyes rolling up at his love, a shudder ran up his back. The hands of two young man parted as they turned a corner. Beyond an open door a large number of teenagers gathered and moved pieces of furniture around. Young Blaine looked to the boy. Old Blaine felt the spirits rolling together retaining their strange joining.

Stopping in the door, boyish Kurt stared. “Ooh, I stick out like a sore thumb.”

Reaching out, Blaine pulled the lapel out from under a shoulder strap and patted the boy on the shoulder. His heart pounded in his chest when he somehow sensed the odd warmth caressed Kurt’s veins. With a playful little smirk he said, “Well, next time, don’t forget your jacket, new kid. You’ll fit right in. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Turning away, young Blaine joined the Warblers lined up against the window. On the couch, the joy of his venerable manhood stretched to its fullest. Elderly Blaine stared and then looked down with amazement at the expansion beneath lose fabric. Thought etched across his brow. Slowly his head went up again so that he looked up the bumps of his love’s old sweater at his handsome face. In a gravely an old man stated aloud, “You knew.”

“The moment we just relived, my love,” Kurt’s otherworldly voice replied.

An old man said, “I don’t understand.”

“Blaine, I can’t tell you what to believe.”

A head moved against the sweater. Nostrils pulled in a pleasant scent. An addled mind struggled with a concept conscious thought disputed. “What is this then? The delusions of a dying man.”

“I hope not.”

"Why?”

“Because I love you, Blaine.”

The old man hesitated. A tear rolled down his cheek. “Losing you is more than I can bear, my dearest.”

“Nor, I you.”

“You are already gone.”

"Am I?”

Blaine tried to sit up but he had no strength. His head rested on Kurt’s arm. The spark remained but it dwindled like water in leaky bucket.

Kurt pleaded with full emotion. “Do you want to be with me?”

The question stung. The image of a heated discussion the two had on a rainy day in New York came to mind. A young man spoke, “What do you even want anymore? Do you even want this wedding? Do you even want to marry me?”

“More than life?” Kurt’s the unearthly tone interceded before Blaine could spiral away.

Silence. The anger prior to their wedding became transposed by three simple words. The essence of the soul bubbled closer. Blaine felt the enormous fear that gripped Kurt during the confrontation. A childish stubbornness overrode love’s need to compromise. An old man had to laugh. That same card fell from the deck many times throughout their life together. Kurt once said that perhaps two men needed to fight. That simple sentiment came from ego and not the heart.

“I admit it my love. At that time, the thought terrified me,” A sweet vocalization drifted passed an old man’s ears. The heart felt deep regret.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” old eyes locked onto a still face.

“We were so young.”

Blaine pulled back. “Kurt?”

“You learned the lesson in your senior year. It was my turn.”

“And that stupid dance that followed?”

“You were braver than I.”

“That kiss on the sidewalk.”

“Yes.”

“You…” Blaine started and then fell silent. Tightness pressed into the muscles of an old man’s chest. Pain flared in the finger tips.

“Blaine, I have always loved you.” Kurt’s essence dithered. “I’ll ask again. Do you want to be with me?”

“Forever,” Blaine moaned.

Kurt’s haunting tone accented his thoughts. “Then believe.”

A dying man hesitated. Blurry eyes glanced up at his husband as sorrow washed over him. How many times had heard his name called with such worry. Conscious thought pressed on for survival crushing the calm of the spirit. Weight threw the body down into the pit pulling the silver cord its limit. Despair exploded within a stumbling mind. The physique shivered as he inhaled what could be the last gasp. The lungs enlarged and the juices of life drew the value of air into the growing pain.

“My love?” Kurt sounded distant and afraid.

Blaine yelled at a dead man. “In what?”

The force of hand hitting flesh sent emotion wheeling. A confused child ran up the stairs to what he considered safety. Angry voices followed, their ugliness barely muffled by distance and the false protection of a wooden portal. Tears streamed down a face as the body pulled itself into a tight ball. A forgotten scent floated past. Undying love overwhelmed the erratic pounding of a muscle as a soft temperate wind rolled up exposed skin creating goose bumps. Unconditional emotions flooded the heart forcing all lies aside by binding life to life in eternal compassion. An elderly man sensed the warming touch within uncontrolled sobs.

Pressing his head down into a stationary arm, Blaine choked back air. Rolling his head slightly, a single word barely escaped his lips. “Mom?”

Something shifted. A realm consumed by devotion and sacrifice opened up. Limitless selflessness stood alone in the crowd where timeless understanding encapsulated all sentiment. Turmoil bellowed in the world surrounding the events of life bringing strife, raised voices and punishment. Then motherly love smothered hate with the joy of birth. Physical suffering only heightened the elation. To look upon the face of the woman who gave birth destroyed all misgivings, sorrow and isolation.

The softness of a childhood blanket stifled fear casting the wailing of logic away. Tender lips pressed against his forehead easing the torrent of tears. The adoring eyes of a new born peered up at her smiling face. Lips nuzzled a refreshing nipple seeking life’s nourishment. A bond unlike anything formed. Words could not do it justice when the very core of the universe rested within a motherly embrace.

“It is alright Blaine. I’ve always known you were different.” Pam’s love passed through Kurt’s gentle tone. Sounding odd to the weariness of a scattered consciousness, the soul fully understood. Only the greatest love could reach so deep.

“Mom,” the boy sobbed. An old man snuggled close to his love where he felt the peace of his mother. Now at the end, a mother’s touch allowed the faintest embers of forgiveness to release years smoldering anger.

“There, there, my sweet.” A jet of hair bushed his curls as if gentle fingers past through the strands. “There is nothing to fear.”

“What if…”

“There is no what if, my dear boy.”

“Mom, I never wanted too…”

“Shush, my love,” Kurt’s gentle tone enveloped mother and son.

Ghostly arms raised some aspect her aged son so that his head rested next to her bosom. Soft warm flesh heaved with the gentle intake of air. Thump, thump, thump rhythmically brought calm. The tender beating of that passionate drum lulled a baby in the womb. It pushed nightmares aside. An aching pump copied its softness conquering the anguish of a seething body.

The approval of the woman folded in about a pained chest. Some part of a failing conscious sensed the gushing passion of a mother swell through the vessel of Kurt’s angelic voice.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ii8Q-z4vdE)

_God on high_  
_Hear my prayer_  
_In my need_  
_You have always been there_

_He is young_  
_He's afraid_  
_Let him rest_  
_Heaven blessed._  
_Bring him home_  
_Bring him home_  
_Bring him home._

_He's like the son I might have known_  
_If God had granted me a son._  
_The summers die_  
_One by one_  
_How soon they fly_  
_On and on_  
_And I am old_  
_And will be gone._

_Bring him peace_  
_Bring him joy_  
_He is young_  
_He is only a boy_

_You can take_  
_You can give_  
_Let him be_  
_Let him live_  
_If I die, let me die_  
_Let him live_  
_Bring him home_  
_Bring him home_  
Bring him home

Kurt’s voice faded into the hopeful sentiments of a cherished parent. Pam’s face rose up within memory but Blaine saw so many more. An old man pulled his dead husband into a loving embrace.


	23. Tiny Blessings

Only a few years ago Blaine struggled with his gayness and doubted a day like this would ever happen. Yes, he knew he liked men but could he find love? He watched mainstream movies and porn. Gay life seemed to sway around frivolous sex and parties with some finding love. In his mind most hope for stability as the years waned. Regardless of age, he knew he wanted something beyond mere primitive need. Then Kurt came into his life and the shades drew back into a brave new world. A kiss with Rachel turned that all on end bringing confirmation of what he truly felt. Now the swirling mass of emotions transgressed time to hold a weak man in loving arms.

In is delirium, some part of him saw two men standing on a hill had never been able to share a moment like that or this. Two farmers working the fields of some medieval lord feared the violence of their day to day lives. Separated by a hill, religion and the loveless women who bore their children, they met in secret. Likewise, the desires of position and money pulled two heartbroken nobles apart. In abstract, they became the glue holding everything together. At first the two nobles seemed only to be a curiosity. Now with others, Blaine realized a greater implication logic could barely grasp. The soul knew he should be dead.

It all flowed into an aspect of life an old man did not feel until his slipped away. In his heart he heard all those men singing but only Kurt’s voice echoed aloud. Images flashed in a weary mind. At some point in his life Kurt smashed Rachel in a sing off. At that time he had no idea those words would resonate into the lonely present.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X510my0LsQo)

 _Someone to hold you too close,_  
_Someone to hurt you too deep,_  
_Someone to sit in your chair,_  
_To ruin your sleep._

 _Someone to need you too much,_  
_Someone to know you too well,_  
_Someone to pull you up short_  
_And put you through hell._

 _Someone you have to let in,_  
_Someone whose feelings you spare,_  
_Someone who, like it or not,_  
_Will want you to share_  
_A little, a lot._

 _Someone to crowd you with love,_  
_Someone to force you to care,_  
_Someone to make you come through,_  
_Who'll always be there,_  
_As frightened as you_  
_Of being alive,_  
_Being alive,_  
_Being alive,_  
_Being alive._

 _Somebody, hold me too close,_  
_Somebody, hurt me too deep,_  
_Somebody, sit in my chair_  
_And ruin my sleep_  
_And make me aware_  
_Of being alive,_  
_Being alive._

 _Somebody, need me too much,_  
_Somebody, know me too well,_  
_Somebody, pull me up short_  
_And put me through hell_  
_And give me support_  
_For being alive,_  
_Make me alive,_  
_Make me alive,_  
_Make me confused,_  
_Mock me with praise,_  
_Let me be used,_  
_Vary my days._  
_But alone is alone, not alive._

 _Somebody, crowd me with love,_  
_Somebody, force me to care,_  
_Somebody, let me come through,_  
_I'll always be there,_  
_As frightened as you,_  
_To help us survive_  
_Being alive,_  
_Being alive,_  
_Being alive!_

Being alive meant everything. Young Kurt’s smile revealed amazing love. In the present and the past, the smothering look melted Blaine’s heart. Moving in closer, he wrapped his arm about his joyful husband. Blaine’s attention went down to the blanket his husband held in his arms. His tender hazel eyes gazed upon a little girl covered with her mother’s fluids.

Rubbing his lover’s side, Blaine leaned his head on the other man’s shoulder. Together they stared at her scrunched up little face. For a second he felt distance, he somehow wished he has carried the child. Gurgling pulled from a deep desire. Smiling he touched the back of his husband’s arm. At that moment he felt the overwhelming emotion the man cast in all directions. Kurt stood there gazing into innocent eyes with that adorable look on his handsome face. Children. A dream come true.

Kurt made little baby noises but the approach of a nurse interrupted. Reluctantly he gave the little darling over to her before he could even consider passing the minutes old infant off to his husband.

Kurt pushed himself against Blaine as he longingly watched his daughter disappeared into a small room. In response Blaine absently wrapped his arm about his husband’s shoulder. His eyes went to the mother lying quietly panting with Jesse hovering close by. The fetal monitor continued to beep as a doctor pressed a stethoscope to her extended stomach.

Rachel openly shuttered when the cold instrument touched her skin. Jesse stroked her cheek drawing her attention elsewhere. She stared up at her husband and smiled. They got married two months after she had been impregnated. That day she got away with a stunning dress. Today she looked like a weird octopus with her legs held apart by a padded contraption. The moment the doctor laid in the newborn on her chest with the umbilical cord still attached, Kurt crushed Blaine’s hand. Radiant light surrounded her.

The gay pair admired Jesse. He stuck it out through all this defending his wife with all the love he could muster. He took the new fathers into his life making them part of their extended family. It showed a depth of character Kurt and Blaine had not seen in school or in the years in between. He accepted all of this with grace. Yes, wanted to start a family of his own. Yes, he had questions of what the future would bring. The journey had not exactly been a bed of roses. At this moment, it all lay behind them.

He hovered protectively close to his tired wife as the minutes passed. The two expectant fathers stood there waiting. Staring at Rachel they held on to one and kept out of the way of the medical professionals who prepared for the next little arrival. With each tick of an imaginary clock tensions slowly increased. Kurt started to threat and Blaine found himself having to quietly sooth him. Old Blaine sensed Kurt’s swings. One moment he exuded worry and then then next undying happiness. His own feelings remained nervously calm.

The high pitched sounds of a fusing baby crying in a narrow side room caught everyone attention. Four sets of eyes went that way.

“She a demanding one and this little one is in no rush,” Doctor Elizabeth Merrett mused as he looked up at the digital timer of one of the instruments. Twelve minutes since the girl’s birth.

Rachel suddenly belched. Mortified, she grumbled, “Her brother is proving to be as stubborn as his fathers.”

“All in good time, Rachel,” Elizabeth softly commented.

“Rachel?” Kurt blurt out as the doctor spoke. He wore a protective gown.

Disappointment washed through Blaine. The guys did not want to know the sexes of their children. Over the long months Rachel mischievously toyed around the edges. Under present circumstances he grudgingly allowed the slip. Absently he brushed his hand up and down Kurt’s arm. His husband looked less than impressed.

“When you pass a bowling ball you can argue with me, Hummel,” Rachel shot back at her best friend. A large then breath escaped her lips.

“Dearest,” Jesse whispered to his tired wife.

Rolling her eyes, Rachel glanced at the Anderson-Hummel’s. “Well, what are you going to name your daughter and SON?”

Kurt made a face.

“Kurt?” Blaine firmly said to his husband.

Shaking his head, Kurt glared at Rachel.

“We had two sets of name for each sex.” Blaine looked to his husband squeezing his hand. “Katherine.”

“Katherine?” Kurt glanced at Blaine with a questioning look.

Blaine nodded.

“Katherine Rachel,” Kurt’s voice had a hint of triumph in it.

Rachel looked surprised.

Kurt peeped at Blaine. “And Alexander Kenneth?”

“No,” Blaine hesitated.

Kurt gave him a concerned look.

Glancing at Rachel and then back at his husband, Blaine’s heart raised. Having planned this he theatrically hesitated. Then in a soft, even tone he announced, “Alexander Finn.”

Teary eyed Rachel gazed at the two men and then up at her husband. Bending closer Jesse kissed her on the cheek.

Kurt turned to his husband with a dumbfounded look. Water glistened in his eyes. Finn had not even been considered. Enfolding him in his arms Kurt squarely kissed Blaine. His teenage step brother still held a special place in his heart.

Rachel reached out to the boys and then suddenly grunted. Both men looked up at the same moment. An old man remembered that moment with happy tears. Pressing his head against Kurt’s unmoving chest, that odd joining provided clarity. Sensing the things Kurt felt only added to an exceptional. The ghost of his husband hovered about him like so much warm water. The weirdness seemed to roll along like some natural happenstance. An old man wondered why he had not been able to feel it earlier. Kurt obviously did.

As soft wail from the past pulled an old man from his meandering thoughts. Decades before the mother of his children pushed down again. Jesse moved closer whispering in her ear. Kurt took Blaine’s hand and pulled him back. A father glanced at a father and then suddenly grinned. Blaine wanted to be right there so he could take the warm newborn in his arms. The shared sentiment caused Blaine to squeeze his hand and tug him close.

Two doctors and three nurses blocked their view. Multiple births had inherent difficulties. Professionals took every effort to ensure nothing went wrong. It irritated Blaine who wanted to watch. Dragging Kurt with him, he found a position where he could see part of the blessed event. Stretching his feet so he stood on his toes he cursed himself for not being taller. In his heart Kurt exuded his ideal of excellence. Everything about Blaine rang true to him. An inch meant little in height. It meant everything in girth. Blaine once called it perfect imperfection.

The head crowned. Blaine found it hard not to crowd the nurses. Rachel called out but not to the extreme she had with Katherine. Then, to everyone’s surprise it all ended. A pink baby boy slid out from between her legs and into waiting blanket. A second later a high pitched cry filled their ears. From the other room Katherine answered. Kurt and Blaine glanced at one another and pressed their faces together. The made little jumps of joy as they hugged.

Leaning in close Jesse kissed his wife’s forehead even as Elizabeth rested Alexander on her heaving chest. The little man’s eyes opened. Blaine’s heart stopped. The child stared directly at him. At the moment he felt the weirdest sensation he found hard to explain even at the moment of his death. For a split second the former Warbler felt as if his soul had been stripped bare by the child. At the same time Blaine sensed something inside himself speaking with little Alexander. The heart wanted to explode and then glanced at his love. In that instant he knew Kurt has felt the same about Katherine.

Sliding his hand down Kurt’s lifeless form, old Blaine brought it to rest on the dead man’s crotch. For a brief second he sensed shame and then surprising lust. Blaine enjoyed seeing his partner naked even as age changed their bodies. That adorable appendage represented a fixation of Blaine’s love making. It pleased in ways he could not really put into words but somehow that odd sense of detachment twisted them. Logical, lineal thought struggled as things morphed into something very different. Meeting Kurt, their wedding, children, their first big break on Broadway, honours and awards all knit together forming a grand collaboration. In what could be his moment of death, these things warped together creating something mysteriously deeper.

The old man marveled at the sensation as the nurse placed the messy newborn in his young arms. Hazel eyes flew to Kurt who could not help but smile. That incongruity imbuing them spoke of undying love and the fact he thought they would make the perfect parents. In that place no man could rightfully describe, others looked over Kurt’s shoulder. Each indistinct form had the same blue eyes and smile. Oddly, Blaine sensed insubstantial hazel eyes peeking from behind him. For some reason it felt as if a circles had been completed.

Alexander stared up at his father as that strange occurrence continued on a level Blaine barely recognized. In many ways, the child looked through him to those behind. The profound nature of it made Blaine light headed. A sense of distance touched him and for moment he felt agony grip his heart. Elsewhere another Blaine breathed deeply as his fingers of his right hand splayed out. Gasping for air an old man felt his love pull him close. Within memory his live folded his arms about young Blaine’s waist as if he somehow understood.

Little Alexander reacted with a loud cooing sound. Blaine blinked as if something pulled him back from the brink. Glancing down, the child’s father stared into the baby’s bright eyes. Drawing in a short breath, Blaine glanced at a grinning Kurt. Turning, one husband laid his son into the other husband’s arms. In that instant old Blaine thought he saw many other arms take up the child. His eyes went to the room Katherine had been taken into. Recognizing the parallel, he smiled.

Unfortunately Kurt did not get to hold his son that long before the nurse came along and scooped him up. Taking him off to meet his sister, Blaine’s eyes followed. Suddenly they glanced at one another and clasped hands. They had a son and a daughter.

Blaine and Kurt leaned into one another. They both felt utterly in love and happy. Pressing out around them heightened emotion pulled clandestine couples in close - two farmers standing naked next to a pool of water being feed by a waterfall, two nobles in a stately room, two Roman legionnaires in distant Britannia and two boys on the banks of the Nile. Unrecognized others joined in stretching the moment.

Old and young trembled. The presence of these interlopers felt right. Then the fluidness of the odd amalgamation faded as those who has come to witness returned to that place they has come from. Only one odd existence remained – an ethereal Kurt and a lingering sensation of success.

Lying there breathing with easy rhythm, Rachel tolerated the ministrations of the doctor. Eyes closed she looked at peace. Jesse gently stroking his wife’s matted hair. She lay there enduring the things the doctors did to insure her health and wellbeing. They whispered things to each other and then they kissed.

“Well that’s that,” Elizabeth commented as he continued her work. “Two happy babies and three standing men.”

Jesse chuckled.

“Wonders.” Rachel drew in a shaky breath.

Hovering close Jesse said to his wife, “Rest, my dear.”

He stepped closer to the mother of his children. Taking her hand he gently kissed it. “Thank you.”

Rachel opened her eyes and grinned.

“There lovely,” Kurt whispered as he straightened up.

“Yes they are,” Blaine replied. His heart almost exploded as he pulled his husband close. “I’m so proud of you.”

“We should be proud of Rachel. She did all the work.” Kurt responded. “Shooting into a plastic cup was the worst sex I ever had.”

Rachel laughed and then winced.

“Hold, still,” Elizabeth advised.

Jesse moved closer to his wife. He whispered something to her and she blushed. The two on lookers stepped back not wanting to disrupt the moment. However, Rachel beckoned them close with a simple gesture. Neither moved. Jesse looked up at his two friends and smiled.

Together, Kurt and Blaine took Rachel’s outstretched hand. In a low voice Kurt proclaimed, “You’re the best, Rachel.”

“Yes, thank you for this miracle. Both of you.” Blaine’s tone matched that of his husband.

“At least I will be able to sleep,” Rachel purred.

“Not with all that milk you are going to have to squeeze out.” Jesse joked.

Eyes rolling up Rachel gave him that look. “You’re all heart.”

“I could help?”

“Now, there’s an idea.”

“Yes and we can work on that co-production I mentioned.”

“Not until she’s healed up,” the doctor said from the mother’s other end where he hid behind light pink cloth. A nurse handed her something with threat hanging from it.

Her husband frowned and then kissed Rachel.

“Rachel, thank you so much,” Kurt reiterated. “Might you…”

“Don’t you dare suggest it, Kurt,” Rachel glared at him. “The rental unit is closed.”

“About time,” Jesse smirked. He then looked at his friends.

Rachel suddenly flinched.

Grimacing, Blaine leaned closer and asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I think so,” Rachel replied.

“She will need a few weeks to fully recover,” he doctor said as he poked his head up over the cloth. He wore a surgical mask. “Everything thing looks as expected from this end.”

“Gee, thanks doc,” Rachel groused. She rolled her head back and forth. “Thank gods for drugs.”

“You’ll be your normal grumpy self when they wear off,” Jesse teased his wife.

“Just you wait.” Rachel reached up and patted her adoring husband on the cheek.

Jesse said in a wicked tone, “Hand jobs aren’t the same thing.”

“I’ll help.” Rachel’s tone had a sultry edge to it.

Kurt cheeks went suddenly red.

“Come off it Kurt, you two do it more than rabbits.” Rachel smirked.

Looking away Kurt turned redder. Blaine just smiled.

“I hate to interrupted, but perhaps mom would like to see her children,” one of the nurses commented as she entered the room carrying a bundle in a pink blanket. Behind her another nurse carried a child wrapped in blue.

Rachel beamed and the fathers backed up giving her some room. Stretching her arms out, she accepted the little bundles one at a time. Gazing at her children she then looked to the gays in the room. “You put me through this so come and say hello to its bounty.”

The two men quickly kissed and then then stepped closer. One of them walked around the other side of the bed and gingerly sat. The other rested his butt on the other edge. Off to one side a nurse held three cell phone. She took turns capturing the moment as a strange family consisting of three men and a mother looked down at the children moving ever so slightly in the blankets. Fingers gently probed newborn skin as tiny hands came up to grasp them.

“Look at them,” Jesse grinned. “I can’t wait for my own.”

“In time dear,” Rachel made a face as if she felt a sharp pain.

“When the time comes, we will return the favour,” Blaine suggested.

One of those looks contorted Rachel’s face. “Good, you can carry it.”

The new father glanced at one another.

“They’re so pretty,” Rachel glanced at the twins. One rested against each side of her chest tenderly held in each arm.

“They may even have your nose, Rachel,” Kurt joked.

“Maybe that pointed beak of yours,” Rachel sharply replied. “But then who cares. They’re beautiful.”

Katherine squirmed and started to bawl. Her brother quickly joined the chorus. As if by instinct, Rachel fully exposed herself allowing the children to each find a nipple. Juggling the two at once took skill Rachel had not mastered yet. Once provided the twins made a demanding case.

The adults watched the greedy pair. Blaine said, “We’re in for restless nights.”

“All well laid plans have an Achilles heel,” Rachel pointed out.

Blaine made a face. “I get the feeling baby time is going to doom us.”

“You’ll do fine, lads,” Jesse stated. “Besides we are going to be over often enough in the next few months. I am sure we can let he two you have a little pillow time.”

Rachel evilly smiled. “As long as they aren’t as loud as they were in Bushwich.”

Blushing red, Blaine looked at Kurt. “I told you those damned room dividers were a bad idea.”

“At least you weren’t a screamer.” Kurt glared at Rachel.

One of Jesse’s eyebrows went up.

“Just a howler,” Rachel shot back.

Swallowing, Blaine tactfully changed the subject. “You have been so patient with us. How can we repay you?”

“Baby sitting, when the time comes,” Rachel instantly replied.

Jesse smiled. “You will be the god parents of our children as we are for yours.”

“You’re more than just a god father, darling,” Rachel did not glance up from the two children at her breasts. “You’re their stepfather.”

The colour drained from Jesse’s face.


	24. Two Babies and a Queen

Kurt and Blaine jumped up and down as their excitement overflowed. The passing nurse paid no attention to the display. Dressed as they had the night before they looked at one another and suddenly threw themselves into a wild embrace. A crowd of nicely dressed twenty something people picked themselves up from the couches of the waiting room to stare at the two. 

Pressing their lips together the Anderson-Hummel’s madly smiled at one another. In that peculiar manner Blaine felt Kurt’s excitement. Radiating into an old man, he pressed his face into worn sweater. Inhaling deeply he felt utterly content. The pain in his chest pulsated but he did not care. Reliving the birth made him fell almost complete. Regardless of his jubilation at the time, his younger self found it hard to push away the fears he felt at that moment. What kind of world would their children come to inherit? Would they have good lives? Would he be a good parent? His older self knew the story. Climate change altered the planet and now the naysayers struggled like everyone else to adapt. 

Raised feelings for Kurt played through the old man pulling him back to memory. The rush of exhilaration expanded when the two approached their friends. Everyone stood there with huge smiles and making demanding questions. Holding hands the boys found it hard to contain their enthusiasm. Hugging everyone, the showed off cell phone pictures of the two bundles of join lying on Rachel’s chest. 

“They’re beautiful,” Tina crooned. She wore the bright wore the bright blue dress she started the evening out in.

“Congratulations,” Roderick smiled as he clasped hands with the two men. The cubby, former New Directions singer peered at the images in the phone. Now he sold cars for a living.

“What a busy night,” Kitty smiled. She looked relieved. “How’s Rachel?”

“Resting,” Blaine replied. He pulled his husband close wrapping an arm about him. “They kept her occupied.”

“I bet,” Kitty commented. She glanced at Roderick and grinned. Her last year of nursing drew close. Finals and then, hopefully a job.

The new fathers glanced at one another. Blaine responded, “Let’s just say she presented certain assets the new babies could not turn down.”

“New mouths to feed?” Mercedes chuckled. A radiant smile pulled her hips. 

“How’s the babies?” Tina asked.

“They took them to the nursery.” Kurt stifled a yawn. 

“Three weeks early, right?” Tina sounded a bit concerned.

Kurt smiled. “And healthy.” 

Mercedes demanded. “What have you named them?”

Kurt looked to Blaine with an adoring smile. “Alexander Finn.”

The name provoked a certain amount of sentiment. They all knew Finn’s history but some of them had been his friends. Tina, Artie and Mercedes had watery eyes. 

Holding a satisfied grin, Blaine finished, “And Katherine Rachel.”

“I hope you didn’t create a monster?” Artie joked.

Tina swatted him. 

“A nuclear family,” Artie smiled up at Tina. Parked in his wheel chair beside a couch, she sat on the arm beside him.

“Why didn’t you tell us the sexes earlier?” Mercedes sounded a little put out.

“We did not want to know. Rachel has known all along.” Kurt’s face went dark. 

Roderick joked. “I bet that was hard for her to keep to herself?” 

“She blew it when it counted,” Kurt grumbled.

Frowning, Blaine shook his head. 

“She’s going to be pressing all that milk a few months.” Mercedes changed the subject. “Maybe you should move in with her?”

“Been there done that,” Kurt retorted with a warm smile. “Months in the barn in Bushwick. Fun times and annoyances. Na.” 

Giving his husband a look, Blaine suddenly rolled his eyes.

“Come on, a McKinley commune,” Artie joked. “We could all move in.”

“Ah, I don’t think so,” Tina corrected. She leaned over Artie giving him the look.

Artie picked Rachel’s Tony Award from his lap. Pointed it at Kurt he said, “I guess she wins best mother as well.”

Looking suddenly upset, Kurt nodded. “Poor girl. She didn’t even make it to the after party.”

“We’ll make it up to her when she is up to it. We can have our own party,” Blaine suggested.

“You sure you’ll be awake for it,” Kitty pointed out. “Twins? What got into the two of you?”

“A turkey baster,” Kurt blurt out.

“Kurt?” Blaine objected.

Kitty laughed. 

“Does this change your plans for pride?” Tina asked. She sneaked a peek at the picture again.

Blaine looked to Kurt who merely shrugged. Blaine said, “I don’t see why not?”

“You’re going to take newborns to that zoo. Are you out of your minds?” Mercedes objected. She gave the new fathers a stern look. 

“You’re singing, right?” Roderick asked.

Blaine nodded. “Yes.”

“Then you will be out of the crush,” the large man added.

Mercedes did not look impressed. 

Kitty patted her on the shoulder. “All they’ll need is a baby sitter for that hour or so.”

“Don’t look at me, I’ll be in Japan,” Mercedes retorted.

Tina peeked at Artie. “Do we have any plans for that day?”

“We can look after the kids,” Artie volunteered. “We’re not leaving for the following week anyhow.”

Roderick looked pleased. “Hey, why don’t we all get a drink?” 

Kurt and Blaine glanced at one another.

“Come on daddies, time to unwind. Enjoy one last night because as soon as you get them home you can forget about Greenwich Village for a while. No more prancing about in drag,” Mercedes threw at the boys.

“We don’t do drag,” Kurt objected.

“After some of that stuff you wore in high school, one has to wonder.” Mercedes shot back. She stood and muscled herself between the two men taking their arms. “Now come along. I need my arm gays…again.”

Kurt and Blaine gave her a look.

Not letting them weasel out, she pressed. “I know a few people at Henrietta Hudson’s who can see to it you have one last night a freedom.”

Both men glanced down the hall to the room Rachel had been wheeled into. Mother needed her rest and Jesse wanted to hold her hand. They tried to pull him away but he would not go. 

“Come on,” Mercedes pulled at Kurt and Blaine trying to steer them toward he door.

“No buts,” Artie shot back holding up the trophy. “Besides I get to pretend I’m a Tony winner until Rachel reclaims this. Might be good for a freebie.”

Kurt rolled his eyes recalling the party after Rachel’s opening night. What a party.

“They’re not going anywhere,” Blaine said to his husband.

Kurt glanced down the hall. “But…”

“Come on, you old fart, lets kick our heels up for one last night.”

“A short night.”

“Come on my little dove?”

Slumping, Kurt pouted and then wearily said, “Ah, okay.”

To everyone’s surprise the sun loomed low one the horizon when the exited the hospital. Laughing they headed off for breakfast. About three quarters of an hour later, Jesse showed up to claim his wife’s award from Mercedes. The celebration did not last much past nine. All of the sagged in their chairs. Fourty minutes later two men flopped down on their bed. Crawling into each other’s arms exploding passion took them.

Three weeks later, Carole pushed the stroller with two sleeping infants in it. Glancing about, she looked a bit concerned as they moved down the crowded street. “There’s a lot of people. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Did you lock Finn up at that age?” Kurt retorted. Holding Blaine’s hand he walked like a proud mother hen. He wore a slinky but boldly colourful tank top and shorts, sneakers and a rainbow flag over his shoulders.

“They’re going to get burned.” Carole looked at her son. “You’re going to get burned.”

“We slathered them up with sunscreen and their covered with a thin blanket.” Blaine looked down at the two wonders snoozing against one another. Curled up on her side, Kate hugged her brother. A thin sun shield pulled over the opening protected the three week old twins. 

“Come on Carole,” Burt was shaking his head. “There’s no harm in this.”

Glancing at her husband, Carole chuckled. A warm gust ruffled her long sun dress. The large, wide brimmed straw hat Kurt had bought her protected her head and shoulders. When she first saw it, her eyes rolled. The large rainbow colour could be seen for blocks.

“They’re happy and why lock the kids up for the day,” Burt added. He looked Washington casual. No jacket or tie but a crisp shirt with the sleeves rolled up and slacks. He looked a hot already and the day had not even begun. The hat Kurt gave him one Christmas sat on an odd angle on his head. 

“It’s not as if we could have dropped them off at Rachel’s. They’ve run off to Vermont for a break,” Blaine stated. A button down lay in a knot about his waist exposing his torso to the sun. Unlike Kurt’s daisy duke styled shorts, Blaine wore the more respectable above the knee type. Sandals guarded the bottom of his feet from glass. 

“After nine months of having to put up with…” Kurt grinned at Blaine. “….us, yeah, she needs one.” 

The end of the long block marked the entrance to Central Park. The street teamed with people dressed all sorts of ways. Some wore little, if nothing, others pranced around in dresses and huge hair. Most looked like anyone else in the city out on a nice warm day. Packs of men and women, some mixed, moved down the wide street in a herd. Pride attracted hundreds of thousands of people. Carole had never seen so many in one place at one time. 

Carole continued to look unnerved. 

“Nothing is going to happen,” Burt reassuringly touched her hand. He suddenly cast his son an odd look. “They have two vicious she-wolves to protect them.” 

Blaine yawned. The twins worked against them. While they both loved their little bundles of joy, some days they wished for a good night’s sleep. With congress in recess, Burt and Carole came to take some of the stress off the poor boys. Cooper dropped by for a couple of days and Pam would not be able to get away for a couple of more months. The two slept on the futon in the living room allowing the parent to have the privacy of their room. Happy grandparents took the kids during the day allowing the boys the chance to sleep. The first couple of days they cuddled up and simply passed out. Getting down and dirty on the third day relieved all sorts of built up tensions. A less robust Thursday morning left them with a higher water bill. 

‘Penny for your thoughts,” Kurt whispered to his husband. 

“Thinking of…” Blaine suddenly winked at his husband.

Squeezing his hand, Kurt picked it up kissed it. Love pulsated from the man even as his eyes went elsewhere. 

Blaine chuckled. 

“What?” Kurt looked perplexed.

Blaine mused. “Go back to watching the scantily clad men.” 

“You are all the scanty I need,” Kurt pinched one of his husband’s nipples.

Blaine pushed himself into Kurt with a wild smile 

“We can wait by on the corner for you boys,” Carole said with a straight face.

“Uh,..hummm…it’s okay mom.” Kurt blushed. 

Carole suddenly blurt out. “They’re nice to look at.” 

“Who?” Burt asked in all innocence. 

Carole smirked and pointed at passing group of half-naked men. “Everyone.”

Blaine and Kurt laughed.

“And I’m not?” Burt feigned hurt pride.

Glancing up at Burt she said, “I might be happily engrossed in old people sex but I’m not dead.”

“Why, thank you, I think?” Burt’s eyebrows furrowed.

The south entrance to Central park consisted of a mass of bright humanity. Tall, short, fat, thin, male, female, in drag, in almost nothing, colourful and dull it flowed like an orderly machine into the heart of the park. Under the watchful eye of New York’s finest, the crowds meandered along the paths and spread out onto the grass. The parade continued to move through the city streets with many of those who had already enjoyed it congregated in the park. The new parents wanted to keep out of that mess. They had been invited to the dance at the pier but passed on it as well. Friends demanded their time. The press hounded them after learning of the private congratulations from the president. They did an interview for gay television station earlier in the week but refused to trot the twins out for display. Of effects of celebrity worried them. 

“My, he’s tall? How can he wear those?” Carole asked as he stared at what must be a seven foot tall man towering even higher in twelve inch heels, a jump suit wrapped in a large American flag. 

Burt replied. “Careful practice.”

Artie and Tina waited for them to the right of the park entrance across the street. The two waved when they spotted the Anderson-Hummel clan crossed the street. Confined in his wheel chair, Artie dressed to protect himself from what may prove to be a hot day. Tina wore something neither Kurt nor Blaine thought she would wear again. A throwback to her Goth phase in school, it definitely had more colour. 

“Howdy, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel,” Artie called out. “Blaine, Kurt.”

“After all these years, call us Burt and Carole,” the grandfather replied with a smile.

After hugging everyone and passing small talk, Tina crouched down in front of the tram. With a smile she gazed at the twins. “Their getting bigger.”

“Careful, they’re asleep,” Kurt warned.

“Come on poppa Anderson-Hummel, kids are more resilient than that,” Tina shot back. She continued to stare at the twins.

Carole said to Artie after she gave him a hug, “Kurt told us you’re going back to South Africa.” 

“For a little while,” Artie tipped his hat forward to cut out the glare.

“It’s a wonderful country,” Tina commented. “I really like it there.”

“You’re moving?” Blaine asked as he untied his shirt from about his waist. He hauled it over his shoulders but did not button it up.

Artie glanced at Tina waving her fingers in front of the sleeping children. “Don’t know yet. An extended vacation is in order.” 

Kurt released Blaine’s hand and bent down beside the stroller. He unzipped the little cooler on the rack and stuck a finger in. “Still cool.”

“It will keep, Kurt,” Carole told her step-son. He watched a barely clothed but extremely well built middle aged man stroll by. 

A VIP pass and a little wangling with the guard at the gate got them out of the throng. The eager young man in a revealing pair of shorts and not much else, balked at allowing anyone other Blaine and Kurt in. An older man saved the day by giving the young stud a dressing down as only a drag queen could. By day Charles ran the props department at the MET. Today he wore an inflated kiddie’s pool about his hips complete with rubber fish and a few other items Carole did not want to look at. The matching lime green and pink dress pulled the pool up over his shoulders. A set of very large breast stuck out like dangerous implements for destroying eye sight. Bright green swimming flippers set into bright red high heels flopped onto the grass. Three feet of green hair complete with a birdcage rose up off his head. Bright colours circled his eyes and down go his greyed beard. 

“That was an exotic,” Burt commented as he looked back over his shoulder. The six of them walked along a considerably less busy path. Various speakers, performers, sponsors and invited guests gathered about the tents in the barricaded section. They each had a tag hanging about their necks.

“New York is a colourful place, dad,” Kurt said. He and Blaine walked hand in hand on the grass. Carole happily pushed the stroller along the paved path. Artie and Tina followed along behind. 

“Have you ever done that?” Carole asked.

Artie snickered. “You should have seen Kurt in high school. That Lady Gaga outfit.” 

Blaine who chucked

“I wonder if those shoes are still in my locker.” Kurt scratched his chin. Pulling up he turned. Carole bent over the stroller tugging on something.

“Doubt it,” Tina pulled on the wheel chair bringing it to a stop along with everyone else. 

“We just have to go back and find out.” Kurt bent closer to the moving carriage and looked in.

“Please do,” Carole enthusiastically said. She looked down at the kids. Kate rolled about a little bit. Alex moved to match her.

“Mom, we’ll be along in August.” Kurt stared at his children and fondly smiled. “They’re so perfect.”

“Nice ass, Hummel!” someone called from within the crowd.

Kurt twisted his head about ever a Blaine spun around on one heel. A tall, very thin man in ten inch Lady Gaga type heels and a multi-coloured, full length daringly cut gown sauntered toward them across the grass. He twirled a wide and wildly colourful umbrella over his shoulder. The purse hanging on along leather strap that vaguely looked like dildos had various pieces of plastic glassware attached to it along with an exaggerated bottle of vodka. Beside him trotted a far shorter and shapely woman wearing a bright red tuxedo and tails with bright rainbow coloured hair. 

“Oh my,” Carole whispered. 

“Hey Blaine, you still with this piece of driftwood,” Tim snapped his head to the right. “You could do better.”

“I’m happy with the model I have, Tim,” Blaine grinned as he affectionately rubbed Kurt’s back. 

Tim shot back. “Pity, I’ve always wanted to find out if you sang during rimming.”

Puzzled, Carole and Burt glanced at one another. Tina tried not to laugh. Artie smirked. 

“You’ll never know, Timmy old boy,” Kurt stood and wrapped his arm about his husband.

“Hopeless in love, still? Sick?” Tim moaned. 

Kurt responded by dipping Blaine and planting a big on him.

Burt coughed. 

Coming up for air, Blaine winked at his husband and then said to Tim, “You’re in fine form this morning.” 

“He got that one from the gym last night,” Beth butt in. The tiny woman swirled her tongue about her lips and then poked it several time against her cheek pushing it out while she jerked her head back and forth. 

“No?” Kurt’s hand came up to his face. His chin dropped.

“Leather and a chandelier.”

“You’re got to be joking?”

“It was one for the books, darling.”

“He one of the one of the S&M types. You know ‘I am too good for you’ types. Tim? Really?”

“Yup.”

Kurt gapped at Tim. 

“S&M equals stand and model.” Tina translated for Kurt’s parents. 

“Stand and feaster,” Beth cut in. “He smelt like he has not douched in twelve days.”

Carole choked on her breath.

“Easy, Burt,” Artie tapped his leg. He had noted the manner in which his brow furrowed. “It’s just blood sport.”

Blaine loudly cleared his throat. His eyes went from the in-laws to Kurt and back.

“Ah, right…yes.” Turning to his parents Kurt said, “Burt, Carole, this is Tim and Beth. They’re from NYADA. Tim, Beth, my parents.”

“Oops, over did it,” Beth blushed under her makeup.

“No harm, darling, we all wail like fish monkers wife’s at times,” Carole replied with a straight face. “Do close your legs, you’re attracting flies.”

“Oh snap,” Beth flicked her fingers in front of her face. “Caught with my snatch open again. Damn, I must be dripping.”

Mortified Kurt glanced at his father. Burt looked shocked. Blaine could not hold it back, He burst out laughing. Carole, Artie and Tina joined in. 

Pulling herself up to her full height of barely five feet, Beth bowed with flourish to Burt and said, “Ah, the congressman. Are you speaking today?”

Burt hesitated as he glanced at his howling wife. Shaking his head he calmly replied, “Just babysitting today.”

“Oh, I can see where you get your looks Hummel,” Tim bent closer and pinched Burt’s cheek. He smiled wickedly.

Burt stepped back.

Coming out of his fit, Blaine asked Tim, “Why aren’t you at the parade?” 

“He got stuck trying to get off the bus,” Beth held a pose. “His wig died as terrible death.”

“Poor baby,” Kurt cooed.

“Speaking of babies are they them?” Tim bend forward. “I’ll take your word for it they’re adorable. Can’t see much from this height.”

“They are,” Tina stood and hugged the tall drag queen. “How’s tricks Tim?”

“Tolerable.” The towering man smiled. He then looked Artie “You still looking for people?”

“We’ll let you know Tim,” Artie looked up as if he stared at the Jolly Green Giant. “We’re in editing with another film planned.”

“Right, keep this flamboyant young stud in the loop,” Tim waved his hand in front of his face and then glanced down at Beth. “Let’s get a move on my little chickadee. Height might help me by you’ve got a tiny thingie.”

“Bitch,” Beth snarled with a grin. 

“Tootles, boys, see yeah on stage.” Tim waved as he gracefully passed into the park where he played it up for other people he knew. 

Burt watched the odd couple leave. “Colourful.”

“This is going to be a fabulous day.” Blaine hugged Kurt.


	25. Snowy Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNNG: This chapter contains sexual acts.

The twins suffered. Their parents suffered. The tedious process of teething began just after New Year’s. Alex started it and, not to be beaten, his sister joined him three weeks later. Reading told the new parents what to expect. Speaking to the grandmothers gave them ideas. Reality turned into something very different. What rhythm the twins maintained went right out the window along with valued sleep. Taking shifts worked to a point. They already did that because of their jobs. The remaining loose ends began fray. Heated discussions grew more frequent. They expected this but sometimes it took great patience to work through things. Even though the joy of having children wore thin they adored them as much as the loved each other.

February marched onto the full moon. The blanket of white that buried the city testified to the fact old man winter had a foul sense of humour. Three days of steady white stuff brought the city to a crawl. Crews did their best to keep everything going but many businesses simply shut their doors. The inclement weather did not aid Kurt and Blaine in that manner. The subway ran, Vogue Dot Com kept pushing up the volume and the opera carried on as if nothing had happened. Any thought of a break faded into several inches of snow. 

Leaving an hour earlier than usual, Kurt tried to get home in time to relieve Blaine so he can snowshoe it to the subway. It made for long days and longer nights. The children needed their attention. They had a couple of days of breast milk, four of formula and luckily both started on solid food. Diapers became the issue the day the storm peaked. Luckily the store on the corner remained open. Donning boots and a heavy jacket, Blaine ventured out into the howling storm. The adorable snowman came back with an arm load of pampers, milk, other baby necessities and a small treat for Kurt and himself. 

Thank the gods the heat stayed on. Last winter the hot water tank ruptured in the middle of a cold snap. It made for a weeks of borrowed electric heaters and thick quilts. Not surprisingly, the boys found their own way to make heat. This winter such an occurrence would prove disastrous. 

Sitting side by side on the futon under a blanket they each had a baby in their arms. Wrapped up warmly, the little darlings fidgeted as they chewed on their teething rings. Half an hour ago, Katherine started crying waking the boys up from astonishingly long power nap. Blaine volunteered to let Kurt sleep but when Alexander started to wail it meant all hands on deck. Diapers for one and feeding for both. The target now became getting them back to sleep.

The dreary rerun of a sitcom from two thousand and ten played softly on the television. Dressed to relax, Blaine wore lose fitting jeans and a t-shirt. Baggy track pants and unflattering sweater kept Kurt warm. They learned early not to dress in their trendy cloths when dealing with the children. The first time Alex threw up all over Zac Posen jacket, Kurt almost dropped him. Other messes forced them to slum it at the bargain stores. They loved their cloths and tried not to let their friends see them downgraded.

Kurt glanced over at the clock. It felt later than seven twenty three. Yawning, he suddenly shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of it. Squinting, he tightened his jaw. No luck. He just let it go as his mouth opened to his full extent. Absently his eyes went to Kate.

Looking up from Alex, Blaine smiled. The rings under his eyes made him look older. Friends and co-workers complained all the fun had gone out of him. He had commitments and the young theatre crowd found it hard to believe. The older lot fully understood and sympathized. Of course he wished he could go out dancing or to a play or enjoy a long chat in a coffee bar. Both men did. These days cafes included a stroller. With the kids teething the parents did not want to subject others to the weeping. Yes, it made them boring, but it also made them blissfully happy and overly fatigued. On occasion, they allowed him to nap back stage. 

“I would love to get twenty four hours sleep,” Kurt moaned. He gently shifted Katherine lightly in his arms. Her eyes looked heavy.

“You and me both.” Blaine yawned. “We have to stop talking about sleep.”

“I wish my eyes would stay closed.”

“Half an hour or perhaps an hour if you’re lucky.”

“You’re all heart.”

“Come of it Kurt, it’s not that bad.”

“I keep following asleep on the subway. Almost missed my stop yesterday.”

“I did.”

The two stifled a laugh in hope they would not excite the kids.

Bobbing his head to his right Blaine gently tapped Kurt’s shoulder. He whispered, “How I love you.”

“You did not always feel…” Kurt caught himself. He stifled a yawn as he turned to his husband. “Sorry, not thinking.”

Stretching neck to the right, something popped. “No harm done.”

“I fell stupid.”

“You’re just worn out. I understand.”

Daddy K pouted. Fatigue filled dragged his eyelids down. “That night. The looks still haunts me.”

Grinning and shaking his head at the same time, Blaine tried not to move his upper body. Alex drifted on the edge. “We’ve been through this.”

Kurt looked unhappy. “I screwed up so bad.”

Slowly leaning over Blaine attempted to cuddle up to his the man he loved. Suddenly he stopped. The baby in his arms yawned and stretched. For a moment he prayed. He breathed out, “Close.”

“Yes,” Kurt chuckled. “They’re lovely horrors.”

Ignoring the comment about the kids, Blaine asked in a serious tone, “Why do you keep kicking yourself over that?”

Eye brows squishing down toward his eyes, Kurt yawned, yet again. Shaking his head he said in a strained tone, “When I thought I lost you, well…”

“Kurt, yes I was hurt.” Blaine sounded irritated. The man he adored rambled. The lack of a good night’s sleep did it to both of them. “Yes, I said something that turned out to be a total lie.”

“Blaine, I drove you into Karofsky.”

“That really bothered you didn’t it.”

Looking away, Kurt frowned. “When I…I saw…Karofsky?”

His turn to yawn. Finished, Blaine gazed at his husband with fond eyes. “You went to the washroom and you cried, right?”

“How did you know that?”

“Is saw it in your face.”

“You know me too well.”

“Kurt, we’re together and will be for the rest of our lives. I can think of no one else I want to be with when the end finally comes.” Blaine paused. “Why are we talking about this, anyway?”

Exhaling, Kurt suddenly yawned. “Sorry.” 

Blowing his love a kiss, Blaine said, “You’re so cute.”

“Baggy eyes and all.” Kurt frowned. “I’m sorry. Just tired.”

The look in his husband’s face reminded Blaine of a dog with a bone. “Kurt, once and for all, we lived in the wonderful state of denial for weeks. We did things we may not have been proud of but we found each other again. For that I thank all the gods, Buddha and…what the hell…our stubbornness. You were right, we were kids.”

Kurt laughed but shut up when Kate started to squirm. The words edged themselves into his heart. Rolling his head to one side he looked dejected. “Blaine I felt so bad. I let you down. I let us down.”

“Kurt?”

“Blaine…damn.” Katherine rolled her head over and her eyes popped open. Almost.

“We’re lucky Kurt. With all the shi…” Blaine glanced at Alex and suddenly blushed. “…stuff we went through only made use love one another more. We learned to accept.”

“Not really.” The little girl stretched and yawned. Pushing her head to the right she snuggled into the warm blanket. 

“What do you mean?”

Kurt sighed as he watched his daughter. “I was done with you until you kissed me on Rachel’s steps.”

Blaine looked shocked. 

“I was tired of it.” Letting out a puff of air, Kurt made a face. He looked to the man he loved. Shame cut across his face. “Yes, I liked having your around. Yes, you are the most handsome man I have even met. Yes, your dreamy voice made me weak in the knees. Yes, singing with you is so much fun but I couldn’t handle the ups and downs. It was ripping my heart out.”

“Kurt?”

“That damned kiss. You looked so cute when you pulled away. I got no sleep that night. It killed me to think of you. I wanted…the mess...it hurt so much…but then you were not…damn, I…”

“Kurt, you seemed so determined at one point.”

“It was. Sh…” he glanced down Kate. Eyes closed she mouthed the fabric. Looking at Blaine he continued, “I felt so stupid. Walter utterly surprised me by telling me to go for it and not to let it go.”

“Wise man.”

“Blaine, I wanted to talk to him about moving in together.”

Brows furrowing, Blaine stared at the television. Why this? Why now? A young man felt baffled. An organ beat uncomfortably in an old man’s chest. The storm raged. Waves beat up against the shore without breach the walls. It came close but then someone or thing protected the ailing man. Even as young Kurt admitted his confusion, love expanded in all directions reaching to some place Blaine barely comprehended. 

Rolling his eyes, an old man mirrored that of his younger self. Secrets. It all hovered around secrets. Looking up at his departed love, Blaine gazed at the peaceful face. Slowly a bizarre notion dawned on him. His head drooped. Guilt pushed into the ticking time bomb trapped within his ribcage. Confidences used against one another. Riddles kept and not shared. True love and commitment meant hiding nothing. Culpability flared within the agony of an ailing body. A tear fell from his eye. Pain and regret only festered causing greater suffering. 

Why did he think of that? The mind froze and went blank. Something felt out of place. Elements of his life bounced about within his mind like bubbles in a Champaign flute. Each carried some repentance. Reaching for the surface they burst providing release of built up tensions. What had it cost Kurt to speak of this, or better yet, what had he set free?

A puzzled look passed over a dying man’s face. Somehow he felt the bubbles tickling in his veins. It felt surreal and oddly intoxicating. Then, without reason, the answer flashed within incoherent thoughts. Freedom. Most never glimpsed this fragile truth. Fingers always pointed elsewhere and never at the heart of the problem – the self. The primitive need for survival prevented pain. To peer inward to where all the horrors of the soul silently festered took guts. To unravel the terrors took strength greater than lifting a car off a wounded person or climbing the side of a cliff with only your hands. Somehow Kurt understood that pealing the stratums away led to the discovery of genuine inner self-worth. 

Conscious thought hissed but the heart wrapped itself about the concept with ease. Healing and warm, it gave him the desire not to give in just yet. Clues strewn through his past pointed to that thing the spirit of his love wanted of him. A frail mind considered the impossible even as the reality he faced echoed back into history. 

A baby cooed. Her father blinked hoping the peace remained intact. For a brief second Kurt felt something anomalous. Glancing at the man beside him he whispered, “Blaine?”

No response. Blaine sat there staring into the television with blank, distant eyes. 

“Say something, please?” Kurt sounded worried. 

“Why are you telling me this now?” Blaine’s tone hinted of discomfort. The young man struggled with conflicting emotion.

Colour drained from Kurt’s face. Panic filled this voice. “Because I’m tired. Because I adore you. Because we have always been honest with one another. Because it is better late than never.”

Glancing down at his son, Blaine drew in a deep breath. His heart constricted. Pain shot through his right arm to his fingertips. It felt oddly remote. A worried looked etched across his face. He felt short of breath and then a weird sense of release. Something he felt bad about disrupted uneasy thoughts. An old man felt suddenly embarrassed. He hated to admit it, but goading Kurt into fits of ire provided the hottest sex and a bizarre sense of pleasure. 

“Blaine?” Kurt stared at his husband.

Shaking his head, young Blaine felt the distance fade. “Thank you, Kurt.”

Tilting as far as he could without disturbing the child in his arms, Kurt looked troubled. “You alright?”

“Yes.” The sacrifice of truth touched his heart. What more could there be. “You didn’t have to tell me that. It took bravery.”

“We’re husband and husband.” Kurt paused and drew a deep breath. “Back then, I carefully plotted out the words I thought Walter would have liked. Fortunately, my heart spoke the loving truth. As awkward as it was, I felt utterly relieved once my shock wore off. I think he always knew.”

“Karofsky, did.” Blaine admitted. Turning his head to face his husband he half smiled. “David told me the clock ticked against us the moment you returned to Lima. It killed me to see you in Scandals and later at the music store.”

“You cared for David?”

Blaine frowned. “He was sweet. I don’t know if it was love.”

“Love?”

“Yes, I think I loved but not like the two of us. It was something soft and even boring.” Blaine’s forehead scrounged up. His eyes went down to the child in his arms. “I would never have done this with David.”

Kurt looked puzzled. 

“This is special to only the two of us.” Blaine closed his eyes. Two men in stood before a fire smiling. The flimsy glimpse warmed a weary body. “I can’t explain it any other way.”

Kurt suddenly beamed. “Timeless love?”

A shiver ran up Blaine’s back. 

Sighing Kurt said, “We were fools.” 

“Agreed.”

“When I think about it, it really felt strange.”

“You rigged the spinning of the names didn’t you?”

“Well, not at first but then it landed so close. Something told me to give it a gentle push.”

Blaine smirked. “When I left the music room part of me was so mad but, gods, I could have kissed you on the spot, my adorable Kurt Anderson-Hummel.”

“Why didn’t you, my sexy Blaine Anderson-Hummel?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. It felt horribly deceitful.”

“Did you really plan to kiss me on the stairs?”

“The idea grabbed me as if someone whispered in my ear.”

“Sue.”

“What?”

Chuckling, Kurt looked down. Katherine slept. “That stupid fake elevator.”

“She knew us better than we did.” The child in Blaine’s arms slept as well.

“You know what I’m thinking right now?”

“Perhaps?”

“Seven plus.”

Blaine’s eyes went down to the baby in his arms. Alex’s head pressed into the blanket he had been wrapped in with one arm over his head. His father sometimes slept that way. 

One of Kurt’s eyebrows went up. “We could put them down and if we’re really quiet?”

Shuffling ever so carefully to the edge of the futon, Blaine evilly smiled. He could barely remember the last time he felt his husband deep inside him. The proof pressed out against his jeans. 

With practiced steps, both men made their way to the small room that held a large crib. Carefully they laid the twins beside one another. The learned long ago not to separate them when they slept. For some reason the liked to cuddle up in one another arms. Both men thought this odd until Rachel told them it sometimes happened with twins. Discouraging the habit presented a new obstacle that would be settled prior to their second birthday.

On cue, the twins snuggled into one another. Pulling the blanket up over them, the two men supported one another as they watched. The smile on Kurt’s face enlarged when a hand pushed into a lose waist band. Turning, his hand probed the firmness inside Blaine’s jeans. Leaning forward as if to kiss, he stopped suddenly and looked to the crib. 

Blaine followed Kurt’s eyes. Reaching up with his other hand, he took his lover’s face and turned it toward him. Smiling, he softly laid his lips upon his husband’s. The space between them faded as their bodies pressed together. The tent protruding Kurt slid to one side. Hands searched and pulled at clothing. Blaine traced up and down the crack of Kurt’s ass. The other man responded by moving his pelvis from side to side.

Suddenly they became immobile. Both men glanced at their sleeping children again. The expression on Blaine’s face faded into remorse. The contemplated feast would leave their two wonders alone. Being a parent had a price. 

Taking note, Kurt kissed his husband gently on the cheek. Blaine turned to see his love holding a finger in front of his mouth. Taking his hand, Kurt dragged his affectionate lover from the room and around the corner. A queen sized bed squished against the wall awaited them. The apartment fit their needs until the twins came along thing got crowded. Forced to use the large store room as a nursery, buying or renting something bigger resided in their dreams. Struggling to get their fledgling production company off the ground they made enough to save a little. One play got good reviews in the third sting theatres. Another worked its way through the early stages of development. Both performed limited replacement roles but playing the Lincoln Center gave them much needed leg up. 

Stopping Kurt from ripping off his clothes, Blaine pushed his husband on the bed. He landed loudly. The two men froze. Nothing from the baby monitor. Letting out a long breath Kurt had a ‘perhaps we should not’ look on his face. Blaine laid a finger over his month and then proceeded to rediscover his husband’s body. Pre-cum moisten stretched underwear. 

Running his hand threw Blaine’s dense curls, Kurt pushed him down toward his throbbing manhood. Blaine protested. Instead he pulling at the sweater with his teeth. Pushing the cloth up, his tongue washed up the other man’s hairless torso. A nipple came into view. Kurt moaned the moment that delicious moist piece of flesh warmed it. Goose bumps rose as he pushed his pelvis up into Blaine. His husband responded by pushing down with all his weight. Gyrating his hips, Blaine tantalized the nine inch monster hidden in it cave. 

With deliberate care, Blaine pulled the sweater over Kurt’s head. Kissing, tongues wrapped around one another. Strong arms pulled Blaine in closer as the two men enjoyed each other months. Passion beyond measure gripped them as they gently rolled to one side. Kurt came to straddle Blaine. Pulling his husband’s hands out wide he began to dine on his sexy neck. The burn of five o’clock shadow heightened his desire. 

A hand sought the buttons of Blaine jeans. One by one he popped them even as he pressed his lips into his engorged husband’s face. Blaine groaned when his lover reached down and pulled his succulent appendage free. Digits wrapped around hit pulling gently. Too close, Blaine tore them away. Understanding, Kurt tugging the t-shirt off. Diving into Blaine’s right nipple, he bit it ever so gently. Pain turned Blaine off producing the desired deflation.

Pushing up at Kurt, Blaine forced him over so that they lay facing one another. His hand slid beneath fabric grasping his favourite toy. A low moan escaped Kurt’s throat. Having children forced them to subdue their abundant noise levels. Kurt groaned and moaned. Blaine tended to call out when the final act arrived. Both had to admit restraint added a new dimension of tension to their love making. 

Bending at the waist, Kurt dug into Blaine’s jeans pushing them down revealing the light hair coating his ass. Running a finger ever so lightly across a cheek, his husband playfully squirmed. Suddenly squeezing the delectable melons, he rolled his head to the left even as his upper body moved that way. Stretching for the side table he fumbled with a small box sitting under the lamp. It lay just out of reach. 

Leaning over, Blaine pulled it close and flipped the top open. Grasping a transparent brown bottle he showed it to Kurt. The other man greedily noted. Twisting off the top Blaine heard the pop of escaping pressure. Lifting it to his nose he breathed in deeply and held it. Letting it out he drew in another long draft. Taking the small bottle, Kurt raised his head and pressed it against his nostril. Inhaling a long waft the euphoria struck almost immediately. With a second intake he handed it back to Blaine who screwed the top back on. The bottle rolled off the bed to the carpet as Kurt pulled his husband into a deep kiss. Melting into each other’s embrace the spreading effect heightened aroused passions. 

Rolling his husband off him, Blaine pushed Kurt’s garment down. With his tongue he created a slick trail down Kurt’s stomach, around the belly button and down the top of the right thigh. Lingering at the knee for a few minutes made his husband squirm. By passing the toes kept the nose level seriously lower. Working up the other side he tantalized the nether regions for a moment before working his way up to the neck. There he played for long while.

Pulling off the remainder of their cloths, they rolled around for a while kissing and exploring. Finally, Kurt went down and began to play with Blaine’s swollen appendage. The adorable man moaned when he felt the first few silky drops fall upon his waiting shaft. Tossing the lube to one side, Kurt laid back. Lifting his knees he groaned in anticipation. Everything abruptly crashed when muffled cries crackling over the monitor.


	26. Sleep

Rachel held the door open while Blaine walked backwards pulling the stroller into the entry. Cool marble gave way to polished dark hardwoods and large plush area rugs. The double long stroller took up most of the space pushing the adults to one side. Kurt squeezed by and ducked into the kitchen holding a towel underneath their dripping boots. The boys refused to enter the suite until they had cleaned the stroller off and removed their foot gear.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Rachel commented as he swung the door shut. She pressed herself against the wall.

“I’m not about to ruin your new floors,” Kurt replied as he started to strip off the layers. It hovered just around freezing outside making layers and scarves a necessity.

“Here, let me take those,” Jesse offered as he stepped through the kitchen from the others side. Rachel’s husband grew a beard.

“Thanks” Kurt handed over his outer layer, gloves and scarf. Stepping out into the crowded hall, he helped Blaine with his things.

Crouching down Rachel began to unsnap the thermal cover protecting the stroller. Radiant as always, she greedily dug away trying to sneak her first peak at the eight month olds. She asked, “You have trouble getting here?”

“Oceans swamp the sidewalks. The wind wiped up a horrible chill.” Blaine complained as he handed his heavy coat to Kurt who passed it off to Jesse.

Jesse commented as he took the coat. “Two heavy snow falls in two weeks. What fun?”

“I think this is the first time we have been out of the apartment since Washington,” Kurt grumbled. He wrapped his arms across his chest as if trying to warm up. A colourful sweater hid an expensive shirt.

“How did that go?” Rachel looked up from the stroller. “You only gave us the overview.”

“Fun but what a whirl wind.” Kurt let out a sigh. “In on Friday, out on Sunday, singing on Friday and Saturday. Lots of parties and no real time to relax.”

“The Clinton were good to us. We were put up in the Hilton. Very nice.” Blaine couched down and looked for something under the stroller.

“A presidential inauguration. Wow, that is going to look good on your resume,” Jesse said from the hall where hung up their coats.

“Oh, they’re all buried in there like a roasts destined for the oven,” Rachel cooed as she finally pulled away the protective layer. She made a face and the children gurgled. Tiny arms reached up to their mother. Lying the outer layer against the wall, she grabbed the stroller and hauled it toward the living room. Kurt followed along behind her.

“We may not have cleaned everything off,” Blaine complained as the stroller rolled away from him. His hand hovered in mid-air as his fingers had not quite grasped something. The previous topic died a premature death.

Jesse chuckled. “We have a mop.”

Stretching, Blaine felt the muscles along his spine stiffen up. Grinning, he asked Rachel’s husband, “So how are things?”

“Busy,” Jesse replied as he and Blaine walked toward the living room where their significant others had the kids out of the stroller pulling off layers. “We are at the casting stage. Pity the two of you aren’t available.”

Blaine sighed. “I would love to but I don’t think we will ever be available again.”

“It’ll get better.” Jesse placed a hand on Blaine’s shoulder.

“The last few weeks have been trying.”

“Sorry, we haven’t been able to assist more.”

“Jesse, you have your own lives.”

Two Tony awards allowed the St. James’ to afford a nice condominium. Taking up a quarter of the floor it composed of three bedrooms, Rachel’s dressing room, a proper dining room, two full baths and a spacious kitchen. Against the wall, behind the couch, an oak and glass cabinet proudly displayed their collective awards, crystal and fine china. Pictures of their adventures hung on the wall along with prints from Jesse’s successes. Rachel and Jesse bought the place shortly after they married. Planning for a family they renovated and updated the original nineteen thirties construction. Blaine loved the place but the boys could only dream at this point. Their crowded apartment would probably fit into the living room, dining room and kitchen with space to spare. Tiny and comfy, Blaine would say. Just tiny, Kurt would counter.

Being careful of the glass and gold toned round coffee table, Blaine sat on the plush blue-gray couch with a sigh. It felt wonderful. Resting his head on the back of the couch, he forced himself to stay awake by following Rachel as played with the kids. Missing the lumps of their futon to keep him awake, he sank further into the cushion. He stirred suddenly when he felt someone sit beside him. Glancing to his right, Kurt sat on the edge of the cushion. He placed two glasses of white wine on the table.

“Oh, sorry,” Kurt whispered to his husband. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I fell asleep?” Blaine sounded embarrassed.

“For a bit.”

“Did they see?”

“I think you’re safe, my love. Rachel is dealing with the kids and Jesse is in the kitchen preparing what looks like finger food.”

“Damn.”

Bending closer, Kurt kissed his wonderful better half. “I don’t think they’ll mind.”

“Kurt, it’s barely eleven?” Blaine sat up.

“So.” Kurt picked up a wine glass and offered it to his husband.

Taking it, Blaine sat up. Sipping, he said, “If you see me drifting off, kick me.”

A little while later, Blaine stirred again. Someone leaned against him with his head resting on his shoulder. He blinked. Jesse looked down at them with Kate in his arms. The clock over the mantel ticked toward one. Motion caused the other person jerk awake with a snort.

“When was the last time you guys got a good night’s sleep.” Jesse asked with a smirk. Kate pulled at the half inch of hair on his chin.

“May, two thousand twenty,” Kurt flatly replied. He rolled his palms over his eyes stifling a yawn.

Jesse laughed. “Why don’t the two of you borrow the spare room and get some sleep? We can take care of the kids.”

“Jesse?” Blaine objected. He pulled himself upright.

“Don’t look gift horse in the mouth,” Kurt gave his husband one of those looks as he stood. He offered the man he loved a hand.

“Take his hand Blaine and go get some rest,” Jesse bounced Kate up and down. The little girl squealed.

Too tired to argue, Blaine allowed Kurt drag him down the hall.

Curled up on top of the bed, Blaine jerked awake. Eyes fluttering he glanced about the dark room. For a moment everything faded into fuzziness. The children? His heart raced and then he remembered. Sighing, he rolled over expecting to find Kurt. He saw nothing but a ruffled duvet and the dent where his husband’s body had been. The moment they hit the bed they cuddled up against one another. The world faded to black in a matters of seconds.

Dragging himself to the edge of the mattress he yawned as he ran a hand through his hair. Fingers got hung up in curls and gel. His shirt rested across the back of a chair with his bow tie on top. Kurt’s sweater lay over the arm. For a moment he just sat there feeling fatigued.

Suddenly he caught sight of the clock beside the bed. It read six thirteen. What? Standing he pulled on his shirt and pants. Padding to the door he blinked back the brightness. Reaching for the wall he used it to guide himself toward the sound of people talking. Three adults sat in the kitchen about a glass table holding an offering of cheese, crackers, fruit, wine and a baby monitor.

“Oh, there you are sleepy head,” Rachel purred.

Looking at Kurt, Blaine asked, “When did you get up?”

His husband smiled. “About a half hour ago.”

“You should have woken me?”

“I didn’t have the heart.”

“Sit, have something to eat.” Jesse pulled out a chair. “We gave up on a real dinner.”

“Sorry,” Blaine made a face. “Where’s the twins?”

Rachel picked up a glass and offered it to Blaine, “Napping after their dinner.”

“At least they can sleep.” Sitting, Blaine sighed and took the chilled white wine. He yawned.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked.

Picking at the grapes, Blaine answered. “Feels like a wasted day.”

“We’ve had a great time,” Jesse smiled. “We took the kids down to the recreation room and let them float about in the pool.”

Kurt and Blaine looked at one another.

“Down, daddies,” Rachel chided. “Their bobbed around just fine. Beside you needed a nap.”

Kurt’s tension pressed into Blaine in that now familiar weirdness. Both parents trusted Rachel and Jesse but the pool? What if…no Blaine pushed that away?

Jesse picked up a piece of cheese and held in out in front of him as if he waved a finger at his two friends. “Now, I am not going to hear a no from either of you. The two of you are staying here tonight.”

“Jesse?” Kurt blurt out.

“For Christ’s sack,” Rachel’s tone had an edge to it, “the two of you are exhausted.”

Blaine leaned forward. “Rachel we can’t impose?”

“We can’t have someone snatching the twins in the subway?” Rachel challenged Blaine as she rested her chin on a fist.

“But…” Kurt got cut off. His temper spiked.

“You’re wound up. The last time we were over at your place, we heard the two of you arguing,” Rachel divulged.

“I bet you liked that,” Kurt’s tone had that high pitched edge to it.

Rachel pointed a finger at both men. “Now, let’s get this straight! I am no longer the uptight bitch you knew during the Fanny era.”

“Thank god for that?” Kurt whispered.

Glaring at her friends, Rachel growled, “I heard that Hummel.”

“I guess we don’t need to call in Santana to get you off your ass this time,” Kurt shot back with a smirk.

“At least I did not need Sue to suck me into getting mar…” Rachel caught herself but a little too late.

The guys blinked, all three of them.

Mrs. Rachel St. James swallowed hard. Looking away and then back, she pulled in her lower lip. “I didn’t mean that.”

His lips pushed to one side, Jesse glanced from his wife to Kurt and Blaine. Suddenly, he downed his wine.

Blaine’s pulled his lower lip in and then looked to Kurt who glared at Rachel. Everyone at the table knew what the two of them had gone through to get this point in their lives. In high school Rachel had a habit of speaking before thinking. It continued as she got older. After all, the world revolved around Ms. Rachel Berry.

Placing a hand on Kurt’s thigh, Blaine felt time pass with a staggered, inconsistent beat. The weird disjointed feeling returned. Elsewhere an older version of himself gagged on the memory. Awkward went beyond the meaning. A violent retort brewed. The thought sent a shudder through an old man’s body. The comment created weeks of simmering discontentment. Even though it eventually died, it never really went away.

Recalling a frank discussion, Blaine realized each beat of an irregular heart held the key. Swirling around like the wind in an open field, it gave subtle warning. Weariness placed Kurt on them edge. The words that followed tempered everything. In a very weird way a young man realized he could change all that.

The flexing of a thigh muscle cautioned Blaine. The heart beats ran out. His mouth moved as the words swirling with distant mists. “Truth be told, Rachel, yeah, you’re right.”

In that odd way, Kurt deflated. Something inside him recognized the phrases for their actual meaning. Staring at his husband, a young man took his husband’s hand and kissed it. He then glancing at Rachel and said, “She knew us better than we did. What can I say but, thank you Sue, wherever you are.”

No one spoke for a moment. Draining her glass, Rachel finally said, “Hey guys, I’m so sorry.”

Reaching across the table, Kurt placed a hand on Rachel’s. “Your mouth is as sharp as ever, Rachel. What can we say? A fact is the fact. I think I can speak for Blaine, we own our happiness to her strangeness.”

Uncomfortably, Jesse suggested, “Let’s watch a movie.”

Feeling sheepish Rachel let out a long breath. “We can haul all this stuff out to the living room, find another bottle of wine and forget about my bad manners.”

Climbing to his feet, Kurt walked over to Rachel and hugged her. “Oh, Rachel Berry, how love you.”

“St. James,” Jesse corrected.

Kurt beamed at Jesse. “In this case, Berry. Mrs. St. James is a classy lady. Ms. Berry was a mouthy bitch,”

Slapping Kurt on the arm, Rachel hugged him back. Looking past Kurt’s shoulder she winked at Blaine and then asked, “Well, my drunk, spin the bottle kisser, what will it be.”

“Brokeback Mountain,” Blaine announced. He felt a twinge of discomfort. Again, he incited his love.

Expectantly Kurt rolled his eyes. “All that twang, yuck. I vote for Cabaret.”

Jesse interceded, “I heard of this movie called, Make the Yuletide Gay.”

“I haven’t seen that one?” Rachel said in a neutral tone. She knew all too well the debates choosing movies created. When the boys came over usually watched something with a gay theme or some musical.

“It’s cute and fluffy,” Kurt nodded.

Taking the safe road, Jesse suggested. “Done. Netflix?”

Kurt nodded as he drew a large C in the air. Picking up the cheese, he headed for the living room. Putting it down on the coffee table he said, “I am going to check on the kids.”

“There fine, daddy K.” Rachel searched the wine cooler for another bottle. Her little nickname would stick.

Strolling over to Rachel, Blaine wrapped his arms about her and drew her into a hug. He whispered, “Don’t sweat it. Everything is good.”

Rachel frowned and leaned forward pulling a chilled wine from the fridge sized cooler. “He’s right.”

“Yes he is but we love you just the same, classy Mrs. Rachel St. James.” Blaine kissed her on the neck and let her go.

“Will you stop making out with my wife and get over here,” Jesse called from the living room.

By eight thirty Kurt snored on Blaine’s shoulder and the movie faded into the background. Rachel and Jesse put the twins to bed and then gently herded the exhausted parents to the spare room. About noon the next day, the two strode down the hall holding hands. Looking rested and freshly showered, they had a bounce in their step. The St. James’ sat in the kitchen with two children in high chairs. Kate’s face looked like carrot and Alex had mushy peas all over the place.

“Good morning sunshine’s, you’re as noisy as ever.” Rachel looked away from Kate. He held a spoon in her right hand. “You leave us any water.”

Jesse gagged on his coffee. The boys wildly blushed.

Rachel mercilessly added, “What it’s been, a week? Two?”

Knowing he could not avoid it, Blaine glanced at Kurt and then said, “Other than a good blowjob in Washington, early January.”

Man and wife gawked at one another. Rachel swallowed. “My god.”

“We managed to sleep when in Washington and not much more,” Blaine glanced at the twins. Bending down he ran his finger along Kate’s cheek. It came up orange. Sticking it in his mouth he added, “Yummm.”

“Our adorable children have been conspiring against us,” Kurt added. The redness faded from his porcelain skin.

“Guys, you should have said something?” Jesse placed his hands on his hips.

Blaine looked at both of them. “We’re fine.”

“What happens if one or both of you get sick?” Jesse nodded as he poured himself more coffee.

Kurt and Blaine glanced at one another.

“Rachel and I talked about it,” Jesse said with a tone that meant business. “We are going to make adjustments to our schedules. We’re giving you a break.”

Before either parent could inject a word, Rachel stated, “You two are fraying at the seams. We’re in this as one big family. Jesse and I can give you a weekend off now and then so that you can find yourselves, again. Go out and dance. Get drunk. Sing in the park and basically have gay old time.”

“Ha, ha, Rachel,” Kurt had a serious look on his face. “But…”

“Kurt, Blaine,” Rachel leaned into the table and stared at both of them with the high school determined look. “You have better get accustomed to it. You now have a standing reservation at the St. James’ hotel from Friday evening until Sunday evening ever three weeks.”

“Rachel?” Kurt complained.

“We love you both and our kids,” Rachel gave them a look. “Please don’t argue. It’s our turn to keep up our end of the bargain. One weekend out of three for the two of you to go prance about at Evolve or just sleep.”

Kurt looked puzzled. “Why three?”

Blaine said at more or less the same time. “Rachel, you’re in rehearsal?”

“We’re both in a lower cycle every third weekend,” Jesse commented. “We’ll be around more often in the evening as well.”

“So, are you going to contend with Ms. Rachel Berry or agree with Mrs. Rachel St. James?” She went back to feeding the twins with one spoon in each hand.

Staring at one another, Kurt and Blaine looked dumbstruck. Blaine started to say something but his husband interrupted by placing a finger on his sweet lips. Kurt said, “Okay. Is there coffee?”

Rachel purred. “Perfect.”

“I’ll have my car take you home tonight.” Jesse commented as he poured brown liquid into cups. “You want some Blaine.”

“Yes, please.” Blaine’s curly hair flew all over the place. He had no product in it. “You don’t need to chauffer about Jesse.”

“Yes we do and I will. My driver will be available if you need him. He will also be driving you to and from the St. James hotel.”

“Jesse?” Blaine’s voice had a gravelly tone to it.

“No buts, Blaine. Yesterday proved one thing to us. You too need a break. Twins, jobs, theatre and doing it all in shifts. I’m surprised you’re not dead?” Jesse placed to mugs on the table. “Pancakes?”

“You have blueberries?” Kurt asked as he added sugar to the nectar of the gods before him.

“Straw and black.” Rachel’s husband turned back to the stove. He padded about in bare feet wearing baggy shorts and a sweat shirt. Neither of them dressed particularly spiffy. Blaine and Kurt had to make do with what they wore yesterday.

“How else can we help?” Rachel asked. She cleaned Kate’s face.

The two men looked at one another. Blaine said, “Jesse, we could use your advice on our second play. We’ll pay.”

“I will not accept anything,” Jesse shot back. “Give me a call later in a couple of days and we can plan something.”

“How are you for money?” Rachel blurt out.

Kurt made a face. “No you don’t.”

“You forget, gentlemen, they are my children as well. I have responsibilities other than squeezing these,” Rachel pointed at her breasts. “We can flip for diapers and things like that.”

Frowning Blaine grumbled. “You’re making this hard for us.”

“I know. Isn’t it wonderful?” Rachel peered at Jesse. “When our children come we can negotiate.”

“I know a lost battle when I see one.” Blaine glanced at Kurt over the rim of his coffee cup. “We can’t take up your entire day.”

“Yes we can,” Kurt sniffed the air. He loved that smell.

“The kids like the pool. We can take them down there for a while.” Jesse said as he poured the batter into the hot frying pan. The thick liquid sizzled.

“Too hot, dear,” Rachel absently commented. She looked at her friends from McKinley. “You two can relax in the hot tub.”

The boys smiled at one another.

“It’s a family friendly establishment,” she corrected. “Jesse can lend you shorts.”

“Yes, mother,” Kurt sipped his coffee. He glanced at his husband and winked.

“Speaking about mothers,” Rachel commented, “didn’t Pam say she might be coming out in March?”

“Yeah, she does not know exactly when or for how long. Dad’s being a dick.” Blaine suddenly looked to his kids. He face reddened.

Rachel sighed. “The divorce?

Blaine did not look happy. “I wish I could do more.”

“You have done enough.” Kurt patted Blaine’s knee. “She’s a grandmother and that pleases her to no end.”

The grin on Blaine’s face turned into an outright smiled. He glanced at his husband. “You know that she stood guard outside the door the night you so shamelessly stretched my virginity.”

Rachel almost choked on her coffee.

“No?” Kurt gushed.

“Cooper told me at last week.” Blaine sighed. “Mom didn’t want me to know. Dad is using stuff like that against her. He claims she made me gay.”

“That stupid,” Rachel blurt out. Wiped her chin.

“Tell me about it.” Blaine looked upset. “My dad forgets he caught me watching gay porn before I met Kurt. Then he tried to bond with me when we rebuilt that stupid engine. Oddly, I actually enjoyed that.”

“Thought he could make your straight?” Jesse injected.

“Yeah, but Rachel thankfully confirmed the truth for me.” Blaine gripped Kurt’s hand.

The Tony winners gave his gay friends a look.

“The Limabean,” Kurt reminded.

“Oh, right?” Rachel shook her head. “I never did get a song out of that.”

“Maybe I’ll write you one, Rachel.” Blaine drained what was left of his coffee. Getting up, he pulled the pot out of the maker and topped everyone up. “I’ll make it the title theme for my first musical.”

“You’re writing a musical?” Jesse looked at Blaine with curiosity after flipping a large fruity pancake.

“I started toying around with something in high school while I mopped around broken hearted.” Sudden regret flashed across Blaine’s unshaven face. Placing a hand on his husband’s shoulder he bend down and kissed him on the cheek. “I know, it sounds crass, but I learned what real love is and what it can cost.”

Turning in his chair, Kurt stared up at Blaine. “You wrote music about that?”

His husband nodded, “Yes.”

“How terribly sweet.” Kurt beamed at his husband. “Can I hear it?”

“I’ll need to dig it out but yes, I can…” Blaine’s stopped in mid-sentence as Alexander tossing food at his sister marking the beginning of the real day.


	27. The Rainbow Room

The last vestiges of the snow died in the corners where plows had piled it high. For the most part if had all washed away with the warmer weather. Brownish grass hugged the hillocks of Battery Park eagerly waiting a warm spree to cause new shoots to sprout. Geese pulled at what green made it to the surface. Seagulls squawked as they floated on the breeze searching to and empty food container to attach. All sort of people walked about taking advantage of a beautiful day. New York endured as only a great city could.

The balminess of the sun meant they could walk with the coats undone even though the wind off the river had a bit of bite. Strolling hand in hand, Blaine and Kurt said little. A hotel weekend, they took advantage of the chance to be themselves. The day started out with a bang. Kate threw up over her brother. One of those horrible joyful moments of having kids. Their second involved meeting friends from the theatre and a hangover. Sunday at Rachel’s ended up to be a painful affair as the high pitched screams of loving kids picked at their brains.

“What a wonderful day,” Kurt purred. He walked close to Blaine holding his right hand. In his other he carried a coffee. Smartly dressed to match his mood. He had a spring in his step.

Sipping his coffee and playfully swinging his partner’s hand in his, Blaine bobbed his head from side to side. “I feel kind of guilty though.”

“Come on daddy. You were so relaxed an hour ago.” Kurt tugged at his arm. Hurt suddenly pulled at Blaine’s scarf drawing him into a light kiss.

“You do that for me.” Blaine grinned and squeezed his partner’s hand. “This sort of feels weird.”

“They didn’t exactly force this on us.”

“Did they?”

“Okay, so I agreed too fast but you must have felt what was happening to us. I love the little monsters but for god’s sake Blaine what about us.”

“Are we going to argue?”

“No.”

“I know but they’re our responsibility.”

“Oh, my darling Blaine, you have always been the more sentimental of the two of us.” Kurt banged his shoulder into his husband. “I guess you married a cold hearted bitch.”

“Did I marry Rachel Berry?” The words rolled off of Blaine’s tongue without hesitation.

Kurt pulled up short. He gave his husband an odd look and then started to chuckle. “Those days running up to Fanny was pure hell. It was like walking on eggshells. We could do nothing to please her. Do you remember how she asked you to make tea for her?”

Looking down and away, Blaine said, “Yes and then the lemons were not the right type.”

“I love her to pieces but at times is such…work.”

“I know, my love and you are not that kind of bitch. You’re my kind of bitch.”

“Oh, I like it when you talk dirty.”

“After this morning, I should talk dirty more often.”

Kurt smiled and winked as he pulled Blaine so that their shoulder’s bumped. “Yes you should.”

Blaine pushed himself into his love. “Maybe after dinner?”

Kurt kissed Blaine’s hand. “I am going to hold you to that.”

“I certainly hope so,” Blaine rubbed Kurt’s hand with his thumb.

Together they walked along the path toward the river with the sun beating down on them. Older children ran about, a man and woman watching them from the park bench they shared. He smiled as they walked by. She gave them a bit of an off look. As soon as they passed she got up and moved closer to her kids. Kurt noted this but Blaine tugged him along around the corner.

Once they reached the water, they both leaned against the railing watching the current run by. The tides and spring runoff pushed level up the cement they stood upon. Shoulder to shoulder they stared at the sun shining off the buildings across the river. Kurt loved the city from the first time he came for nationals. It took Blaine a while to become accustomed to the huge size. He liked the openness rather than a maze of imposing buildings. Thus, they lived a twenty minute stroll of Battery Park and a subway ride to Central Park.

A tug boat steamed by, its wake splashing up beneath them. Blaine commented, “That sound reminds me of those days we spent by the river snuggling by that rock.”

“I loved it and dreaded it,” Kurt turned so he faced the park with his back to the river. He stared at the budding trees and the high rises. “I kept imagining Karofsky and some of the football goons jumping us.”

“It’s funny how that turned out. Do you know that guy who gave Karofsky a bad time after he saw you together at Breadsix has gone to jail?”

“What?”

“Yeah, Sam sent me the news article. He beat some poor fellow up outside of Scandals. A bunch of drag queens chased him down.”

“Holy crap.”

“There might be hope yet, my love.”

“I thought New York was a mecca, but look how that turned out. I got bashed and Artie got mugged, twice. Not the safest place I wanted but I feel safer here than I did in Lima.”

Stroking Kurt’s arm Blaine said in a low tone, “Seeing you in the hospital broke my heart.”

“It got you into NYADA.” Kurt noted a man off on a small rise with a camera. A child ran out from behind a piece of artwork and cameraman swung that way.

“I proved to me how fragile we are but also who strong we can be. You were brave Kurt. Foolish but brave,”

“You didn’t hear my dad.”

“Yes, I did. I was just outside the door.”

“Why didn’t you come in?”

“No, no. That was a father son moment.”

“You’re all heart.”

“I know.” Blaine smirked.

Pushing off from the railing, Kurt took Blaine’s hand. “Even though I was drugged up, somehow I heard you sing.”

“Really?”

“I will always know when you’re close.”

“A disturbance in the force?” Off in time, an old man’s heart thumped painfully in his chest.

“That to?” Nasty grin.

“Oooh, baby.” Blaine winked.

Tugging at his husband, Kurt began to stride up the river. The city had built a treed walkway running along the river and the building. Sipping his warm coffee, he said, “Life is perhaps not what we thought it would be but I’m happy.”

“So am I,” Blaine smiled.

“We should think of moving up though,” Kurt pointed at a nearby new high-rise.

“It will be getting tight in our little place soon.”

“Cozy and tight like your rump.”

“Kurt?” Blaine blushed and squeezed his love’s hand.

Kurt winked. “A couple of weeks adds to the adventure.”

Blaine suddenly turned and kissed Kurt soundly on the lips. Arms wrapped about one another. When they separated they drew each other into a hug. Over Blaine’s shoulder Kurt saw that man with the camera again.

Releasing his love, Blaine whispered, “It adds more than just adventure.”

Looking that way, Kurt said, “It’s has been a wonderful ride.”

Slipping his arm about Kurt’s waist Blaine glanced about. He said, “Finding ourselves again, yes.”

“Indeed.” Kurt purred. “Do you think we will ever be able to live up there?”

“I might have a spare two million in my pocket?” Blaine impishly shot back.

“You’re been holding out on me?”

“Not if this morning was any indication?”

Kurt pulled his love closer. “Oh, how I adore you.”

“You know, I have a delicious idea.”

“What, it’s my turn to play Jane to your Tarzan.”

“Naughty boy,” Blaine bobbed his body back and forth so that Kurt moved with him. “Let’s go out for dinner and then dancing.”

“Burgers and Evolve?”

“Na, I was thinking the Rainbow Room?”

Kurt suddenly stopped dragging his husband with him. “Blaine, we can’t afford that?”

“Probably not but I don’t really care?” Blaine gazed into his husband’s soft blue eyes. “Kurt, I love you more and more each day. You grow on me like a fine moss making me warm.”

“Gee thanks?”

“The last few months have been, well…hell, but I would repeat it all over again if you were there at my side. Tonight, let’s just forget about it all and have a fun time.”

“You already made reservations?”

“Two week ago.”

“You bugger.” Kurt clouted Blaine on the shoulder and hugged him. They fell into one another as they slowly spun around.

  

Forehead rested against forehead, they smiled at one another. Kurt said in a soft voice, “I guess we work a little overtime.”

“Na, mom gave me some money. She told me to treat myself. Well, you’re my treat.” He kissed his husband.

The boys walked arm in arm along the river walk chatting and taking in the bright sun. They stopped to sit on a bench for an hour just enjoying the calm and themselves. Fingers played with one another. For an old man it felt as if the two of them sat on the rock in Lima. Teenage love gripped them.

Lying the side of his head upon the arm of that man he loved, old Blaine could not stop himself from smiling. Two love struck young men acted as if they had just met. Moments like that came and went as their lives moved on. Each held a special meaning in those places only the heart new. The night before each of their children’s marriages they did something just for the two of them. A picnic lunch in the hospital meant everything. An evening sixty years in the past marked the true beginning of something Blaine only now began to really understand.

The sorrow an old man melted as he recalled his younger self returning to their quiet, child free apartment about three felt surreal. Standing over the vacant crib, two fathers wrapped armed about one another. Blaine leaned closer and straightened out the little pink and blue blanket. He glanced at his love and smiled.

No one spoke until Kurt commented, “I miss them.”

“Same here, my love.” Young Blaine buried his heads into husband’s shoulder.

“It’s amazing, they can be such a bother but they are so much part of us.”

“As much as you are part of me.”

“I will always be here.”

“I felt complete the day we got married but watching the birth of our children filled in all those little holes.”

“Perfect imperfection.”

“I wonder if that ring is still there.”

“Bubble gum wrappers. It was so unexpected and sweet.”

“I could have bought something but then that was made of love and creativity.”

“It was so special.”

“The holiday season always brought you down.”

“Until you came along.”

“Skating that Christmas in New York.”

“Sweet, stubborn dad.”

“When I asked him for his permission to marry you he said people who love as we do things will always work out.”

Kurt kissed his husband. “I can’t pretend there will not be issues, but we have each other.”

“That we do.” Blaine beamed.

Arms enfolding around each other their clothing ended upon on the floor. The two men retreated to the living room where they made the most passionate love to one another. In no rush, they explored and played one another like fine instruments. Finally they cleaned up. Donning their best white tie and tails, they took advantage of Jesse’s offer and cuddled up in the back seat of a vintage nineteen sixty one Rolls Royce Silver Cloud sipping on Champaign. The doorman did not even bat an eye when two men helped each other out of the shining silver and black car at the foot of the Rockefeller Center.

They rode up in the elevator with a well-dressed middle aged couple. The man paid little attention to the two of them. The woman kept sneaking peaks. The fur coat she wore almost reached the floor. The dark blue gown underneath shimmered in the light along with the diamonds about her neck. He husband wore a fine dark grey suit and black overcoat. He spoke to his wife about something obviously business related. The look on her face told the story.

The two young men let the other couple exit first. The middle aged gentleman nodded to them in return. Giving them some distance Blaine and Kurt followed along toward the maître’d standing at the top of a set of stairs. The opulence of the Rainbow Room took their breath away. Glistening crystal, glass, polished metals and great star set into the center of a circular dance floor. The tables arrayed around the star where a large chandelier hung in a place of honour. Over the decades of its life the Rainbow Room maintained their famous reputation for its wine, dining and dancing. New York’s elite, visiting celebrities and the wealthy from around the world frequented the grand establishment.

Fine china, crystal stemware and sterling silver cutlery backed by a crisp white table cloth greeted them when they sat. The attentive waiter took the white napkins form the side plate and put one on each of their laps before presenting them with the menu and wine list. Kurt deferred to Blaine concerning the wine. He had better palette for such things. A bottle of Peter Michael Cabernet Sauvignon Oakville Au Paradis soon arrived.

“Would you look that view,” Kurt leaned back so he could see out the window.

“It’s magnificent. The city looks so different from up here.”

“Wouldn’t be great to live so far up.”

“One day, perhaps.” Blaine said as the waiter placed bowls of lobster bisque before each of them. Raising his glass, he proposed a toast. “To the man I love with all my heart. He I would never want to be parted from.”

Blushing, Kurt picked up his glass and the two lightly touched with a simple chime. “How I adore you, love you and cherish you.”

Though tables sat close by, Blaine did not curb his enthusiasm. “Our road here has not been easy, my love, but here we sit, married and with children. What more could there be.”

“A Tony?”

“Well, yes, but if I had to choose, I would always choose you.”

Kurt raised his glass. “To all that was, all that is and all that will be. Together for all eternity.”

An old man quivered at the memory of those words. At the end of it all, Blaine finally began to comprehend the true meaning. In retrospect, the recalled the meal. Blaine had heart of palm salad followed by bigeye tuna tartare and beef wellington. Kurt indulged in a Caesar salad, crab Louis and lamb. Soft, live music drifted through the large room. Some people braved the dance floor between courses.

An hour later Blaine sipped on what remained of the bottle of wine. Gazing at his handsome husband, he said, “I hope you’re enjoying yourself?”

In all innocence, Kurt said, “It’s over?”

Pulling his lower lip in, Blaine had an impish look on his face. “Do you remember your junior prom?”

“How could I not,” Kurt made a face.

Standing, Blaine walked over to Kurt’s side of the table and stood over him. Holding a hand out, he said in a soft, seductive tone, “Excuse me, may I have this dance.”

Smiling, Kurt breathed out holding his gaze on Blaine’s radiant face. His mind jumped to Karofsky leaving him there standing along. He felt humiliated and embarrassed. Today he felt only love. Taking the hand, he said, “Yes…yes you may.”

Hand in hand, the two walked to the dance floor where three other couples turn a turn. Taking the led, Blaine placed his hand on Kurt’s waist and began to move across the floor. They received looks from some people but the most part no one seemed to care.

Nestled between the stairs leading down to the main floor, the band consisted of piano, drums with a saxophone, flute, clarinet and trumpet and various strings. The music varied from Straus to swing and themes from modern artiest recomposed for a slower atmosphere. In many ways it felt as if they had gone back in time with a modern flair. Holding each other as a waltz demanded, they moved about with trained grace. NYADA and NYU taught a series of different dance methods. The next youngest couple had to be in their forties. A little stiff, they had obviously taken dance classes. Laughing and smiling nothing more could be important. They acknowledged the two men as they passed by in a large arch of the floor. Blaine and Kurt smiled back.

Couples left and others stepped out onto the floor as they music shifted to something people would have danced to in the early nineteen hundreds. Really not that different from a waltz the boys transitioned with little effort.

Leaning into Kurt, Blaine blew on his ear and then said in a soft tone, “Have I told you today I love you?”

“Many times,” Kurt smiled.

“I’ll just have to spoil you more.”

“All this, you already have.”

“Wait until I get you home?”

“The St. James hotel?”

“Oh, that will do for what I have in mind.”

“Want is that?”

“I pinched the key for the hot tub.”

“You naughty boy.”

“I plan to be.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“I gave myself to you without condition.”

Kurt leaned in closer resting his head on Blaine’s shoulder. “I do love you.”

Gliding around the floor, dinner wound down as more and more people joined them. The Saturday ritual repeated itself as it had for decades. Four style changes later, Kurt took Blaine’s hand and led him to the table. Pulling the chairs up so that they sat knee to knee. A moment later the waiter came by and inquired about drinks and the desserts they had ordered. The cheese cake arrived first, the Louis the Thirteenth brandy second.

“Just how much did you mother give you?” Kurt asked as he sniffed at the brandy. While he did not like it he was not about to upset his gorgeous date. Blaine liked fine scotch and brandies.

“We’re not talking about money tonight,” Blaine replied. Resting the wide, round crystal snifter on his palm he swirled the orange brown liquid.

Kurt made a face when he sipped the brandy. His head moved to one side. “Not bad.”

“Not the…what do you call it?” Blaine shifted the brandy to his left and took Kurt’s left hand in his right. It felt natural.

“Battery acid.” Kurt smirked. “But this is nice. You do have good taste.”

“In husbands, definitely.”

“Oh, that’s sweet,” someone interrupted from behind. The boys had been so intend to themselves they failed to note a middle aged woman walking up behind them with the help of a cane.

“June?” Blaine sounded surprised. He pushed his chair back as he rose.

“No, no, sit,” June patted him on the shoulder. “May I join you for a little bit?”

“Yes, by all means,” Kurt had risen just as Blaine had.

“You there. Can you get me a chair?” June said to a passing waiter. The chair arrived almost immediately. The starched waiter held it as June sat. “Oh and I will have one of whatever they are having.”

“June, how are you?” Blaine said to June sitting across from Kurt and himself.

June smiled at the two men. “I’ve been watching the two of you. It looks like you are having a lovely time?”

“We are,” Kurt smiled at his husband.

Blaine shifted his chair so that he has more leg room. “We haven’t heard anything from you in a while.”

“I’ve been in Europe and the orient.” June stared straight ahead. “China is dirty. Japan to exact and Europe is Europe. What else can I say?”

“Fun or work?” Kurt inquired?

“A bit of both. I was on a fact finding mission for the Metropolitan Opera.” She rolled her eyes. “Their planning a world tour.”

“Sounds exciting?” Blaine questioned.

“It was tedious.” June suddenly pulled her lips in. “But what about you two? Other that singing for a president, I have not heard about either of you in the Broadway News lately.”

“We’ve been busy,” Kurt picked at his cheese cake.

“Oh, please don’t let me stop you.” June grinned.

Kurt slipped his fork into his mouth.

“And you’re married.” June raised her glass. “Congratulations.”

“And with twins. Katherine and Alexander.” Blaine proudly answered.

“Oh my, that explained that,” June leaned back. A hint of pain crossed her face.

Kurt and Blaine looked at one another. Kurt asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes, just the joys of getting older.” June accepted the brandy offered to her by the waiter. Placing it beneath her nose she smiled. “You have good taste.”

“A life I could get accustomed to,” Kurt purred.

“It’s not all it knocked up to be, dear boy,” June rested the warm snifter in his hand and swirled it. “I really under estimated you two. I’m also happy to see you worked out your differences. I hope you two aren’t giving up on your dream?”

“Not at all, June,” Blaine sipped his brandy as well.

“Good.” June pulled her cane up closer to her chair. “That would be a waste.”

“We have a small production company,” Blaine sipped his brandy, “We’re trying to support up and coming artists.”

“Admirable and ballsy.”

“And tough,” Kurt pointed out.

June gave Kurt a look. “Just don’t forget the call of the stage. I’m looking forward to hearing the two of you sing again.”

Staring at his husband, Blaine’s eyes flashed with mischief. The right side of his mouth rose. He said, more to himself than those about him, “I would love to sing at this moment.”

“Excellent,” June raised her hand summoning the waiter over. The forty something year old man leaned in close. “Would you be so good as to ask Marcel to join me?”

“Right away, Mrs. Dolloway.” The waiter walked off.

Puzzled, Blaine asked, “What are you doing, June?”

“Being a shareholder has its privileges, my boy,” June patted Blaine on the cheek.

Five minutes later the band broke for an impromptu break. Leaving her cane behind and escorted by two handsome young men, June approached a shiny white piano. Kurt helped the rich heiress sit on a stool beside the piano while his husband placed himself behind the ivories. Watching Blaine he waited to find out what they would sing.

“Can I have your attention,” June called out in a strong but not loud voice. She gazed out at the full tables. The noise died away when she lifted a hand. “Most of you know me. I know this is a bit of a departure for the usual but please indulge a dreadfully rich matron. I would like to introduce Blaine and Kurt Anderson-Hummel, two bright and hopefully soon to be shining Broadway stars.”

People enthusiastically clapped.

Blaine waited for the applause to fade. Gazing at the man he loved, the former Warbler, said to the gathering, “I would like to sing for you a song no one has heard before…”

Kurt gave Blaine a look.

Winking, Blaine went on without interruption, “…I wrote this in my late year of high school.”

Even as fingers played across the keys being creating a haunting, even sad sound, Kurt stared to Blaine whose eyes shimmered with deep emotion. Slowly Blaine’s sweet voice rose above the chords of the piano:

 _I look around at the trees and water wishing,_  
_I sit here all alone asking myself, where is he,_  
_Memory warms me but I fell so alone?_

 _The wind cools the hot sun beating against my face,_  
_It burns but does not destroy the tear,_  
_I feel all alone._

 _Is it foolish to long the way I do,_  
_To miss the joy I once felt deep inside,_  
_He is not here to hold my hand._

 _For better or worse, I wish he might have responded_  
_Something nice, something sweet, something angry,_  
_Yet, there is nothing but resounding silence._

 _I lie on the bed and cry because I know he feels his own pain,_  
_I cannot change him and would not want to._  
_He is special and may also feel all alone._

 _Is it my fault that I feel like this and I wish he held me,_  
_I stare at his picture knowing how sweet and dear he is,_  
_A tear is all that I share in my loneliness._

 _I have lost his smile and gentle touch,_  
_I wonder if in his sorrow he feels the same,_  
_Is he like me, afraid of being alone._

 _The tears staining my cheeks sustain me,_  
_To me he is my morning, my afternoon and my pleasant night,_  
_Is it enough that I do not want to be alone._

Crying, Kurt squeezed onto the piano stool beside his husband taking his head in his hands. He set his lips to Blaine’s as the crowd enthusiastically applauded.


	28. A Snake

“I know that hair?” someone said from behind Blaine.

The sugar sprayed across the counter missing the steaming coffee. Turning slowly he faced a blast from the past. Icy liquid followed by agony instantly came to mind. Shaking it off, Blaine said in a low tone, “Sebastian?”

The former Warbler and slushy thrower looked pleased with himself. Standing a couple for yards away with his arms folded across his chest, he looked the similar but different at the same time. The suit and thick brief case seemed out of place but the golden tan looked good. Balding, he still had the devil-may-care twinkle in his eye. The grin on his face crawled up into his left cheek.

“In the flesh, country boy.” Sebastian moved with grace of a cat to circle around so that he stood next to the right of the prep bar close to Blaine. “Of all people to meet in New York.”

“Yeah, wonders,” Blaine flatly commented.

“Who would have thought two former Warblers would met up again.” Sebastian nodded as set a pose.

In an instant the walls of Dalton grew up around him. The fun. The desires. The discovery. Blaine often thought of those days and the songs drifting down the halls. Then fate struck and things changed. Forces pulled at him in a way that would shape the rest of his life. Young and old recalled the Limabean and the day he decided to leave. Kurt sat adorably within his shell of feigned indifference.

“You're quiet,” Blaine stated. Coffee in and he sat across the table. He sat back with a grin as he fondly staring at Kurt.

“No. I'm being passive-aggressive.” Sitting at the other end of the table Kurt had a slightly pensive look. The checked shirt, while still fashionable, looked oddly hillbilly on him. “You promised that by the first day of school, you'd make a decision. And yet, there you sit, cute as ever, but still in your Warblers blazer.”

“I can't just bail on the Warblers,” Blaine objected. His face twisted into a playful smirk. “Those guys are my friends. Okay”

“All right, fine.” Kurt’s leaned slightly forward and then sat back. “One final sales pitch, and then we can talk about making over Nancy Grace.”

“Okay.” Blaine delightfully grinned as his head swayed down to the right,

“If you stay at Dalton,” Kurt’s eyes rolled up, “you and I are competitors.”

“That's true.”

“And I'm just not sure that our budding love can survive that.”

“Let me get this straight. I have to transfer because you're just afraid that I'm going to beat you at sectionals?”

“No, I'm afraid that I'm going to beat you.”

“Ooh, ooh, yeah.” Blaine playfully smiled. He liked the look on the other boy’s face when he triumphed.

“And I know what that does to you when I win.” Kurt smirked as he shifted in his chair. “Look, I mean, honestly, I…I just I just want to see you more. Yeah, I want my senior year to be magic, and the only way that's gonna happen is if I get to spend every minute of every day with you.”

Those words hung on a teenage heart as he slowly walked back towards Dalton. Ambling down the sidewalk his mind drifted every which way making it hard to keep a straight line. Leaving Dalton? He loved the place. Singing gave him purpose. The comradery left him with a sense of security he rarely felt at home. He had always known of his dissimilarity though he may not have been able to place a label on it. At five years of age he knew where his attractions lay. As the hormones of the girls kicked he noted the way they chased the boys. When his own cravings began to take over, he wanted what the girls had. To him it felt normal. When the slurs and crashing into the lockers started, he discover the meaning of his difference. At Dalton he learned to accept and celebrate himself.

Pondering that difference took months. The simple gift of a hand me down laptop unbolted a door that ultimately led to further ridicule. A couple of times he arrived home with the back of his jacket covered it spit and blood smearing his face. When he confronted the system he discovered those in charge did not care. One of Pam’s co-worker’s sisters had a son at Dalton. Daniel argued.

Feet fell on hard cement. Cushioned soles took most of the punishment. On one level Blaine considered where every step took him. In that other way he seemed lost. The meanderings of his mind took him many places as emotions pulled this way and that. For a second his consciousness would fix upon a single thing and then just as fast it would fade. Laughing in the halls. Holding hands by the river. Boys in the commons studying and Breadstix with someone he cherished.

The bakery came and went. Half way, his mind told him. The boys from Dalton frequented the place. Kurt and he would stop there every so often. Most of the time they hung out at the Limabean. They both loved the smell of freshly ground coffee on a cold winter’s day. He paused and looked back down the street. A memory flashed. Kurt had just returned New York and busily told him the humourous story of their disappointing lose.

“You should have seen it.” Kurt sat there in a white coat with an oddly excited look on his face. “We all looked at the top ten list for showcase, and we all just went numb. And then Jesse kept going on and on about how Rachel and Finn's kiss is what cost us nationals.”

“While I understand passion, I do think that was unprofessional but…” The words faded away within his mind as real life interrupted. It resurged as if the rhythm did not want to end. “…on a Broadway Stage.”

Leaning his chin in his right palm with his elbow pressed into the table top, Blaine remembered gazing at the other boy through a haze. A gentle, soothing sensation pulsated in his chest. He could not stop his lips from curling up at the edges. The three simple words that flowed from his mouth came from the heart without forethought.

Kurt sat there with his coffee. His face revealed, what Blaine could only describe as, surprised calculation. The expression changed ever so slightly as that twinkle brightened his eyes. Slowly, even nervously, he said in that musical high pitched tone, “I love you…too.”

The words rang like a silver bell within Blaine’s heart. He had been feeling that way for weeks. Voicing and hearing it made it all so real. Fireworks and heart thumping explosions. Wild and exciting, time seemed to stop. With his fingers he began to count - pro this and con that. Slowly he found himself being overwhelmed.

“Damn it, Blaine, get it together,” the Warbler said to himself as shook his head. Reaching up, he pulled at his tie loosening it. For some reason it felt uncomfortably warm. Rubbing fingers through his stiff hair he let out a sigh.

Light headed, Blaine reached out and found a lamp post for support. Leaning against it he drew in a deep breath. People wandered by in a blur of motion. The wind brushed firm hair providing an interesting sensation. A muscle pounded in his chest. Weak kneed the breathed in again. Never had he felt this way. Never had he found himself in such conflict.

Someone inadvertently bumped into him shocking Blaine. Looking about. A kid bounced by following his mother. She looked back with an apologetic smile. He smiled back. Kids? He loved the idea of being a father but, then he longed for the strong embrace of a man. He longed for Kurt. Those eyes, the softness of his lips and amorous words. They echoed in his mind all summer long. Discussions by the river, at coffee or just walking down the street. Kurt knew what he wanted. Blaine, well, he had not quite gotten there.

Closing his eyes for just a second, Blaine drew in a slow breath. He helped clear his head. When he opened them he stepped forward making his way toward the sanctuary of Dalton’s gates. The private school lay at the end of the block and around the corner. Adjusting the bag slung over his shoulder he made his way along the edge of the buildings. When he reached the corner he remembered to look both ways. Two cars passed through the intersection using the correct four way stop procedures. A man stepped out into the cross walk beside him. Taking advantage Blaine followed along.

Strolling down the quieter side street, Blaine looked up at the full trees. He loved the walk. In the winter it looked stark but when the spring struck it took on a whole new life. This year the budding trees took on a fresh meaning. Singing with Kurt in the lounge before Christmas. Their first kiss. It meant so much to him but so did these simple trees.

Passing through the gate, Blaine unexpectedly stopped. The drive gently curved to the visitor’s parking lot. It felt like home. For a long time he just stood there staring. The warm breeze caressed his cheek and pulled at his messy hair. Normally he would wet his hands somehow to reset the rock on his head but today he did not care. Running both hand through them at the same time messed it up even more.

Finally, he walked over to a bench underneath a huge tree planted in the middle of the eighteen hundreds. The branches blotted out the sun. Throwing his shoulder bag down, he sat with a thump. Hard wood pressed up against unprepared muscle. He winced. Leaning back and stretched his ribs cracked. Gazing up at the leaves he smiled. The wind caught the tree creating a kaleidoscope of colour. He sat there for a while and moved only when the snapping of a twig caught his attention. Looking to his left, David stood at a respectful distance.

“You alright, Blaine?” the chair of the Warbler council asked. He looked concerned.

Blaine’s grin faded to frown. “Honestly David, I don’t know?”

“Do you want to talk?” David took an involuntary step forward.

Picking up his satchel, Blaine patted the bench. “Please.”

Sitting David kept a polite distance. “So, what up?”

Sighing, Blaine looked at his friend with sorrowful eyes, “David, I don’t know…but…I am thinking of…leaving.”

“Leaving?’

“Dalton.”

Silence for a moment. David altered the way he sat so that he faced Blaine more directly. “Kurt?”

Blaine could not look at his fellow Warbler in the eyes. “Is sounds so stupid.”

“Blaine, we can all see it.” The head of the Warbler council watched his friend’s face. Blaine looked puzzled. David went on. “When you elected to sing Candles, you made your feelings more than a little obvious.”

Shocked, Blaine stared at David.

Smiling back, David said, “Blaine, honestly it wasn’t a secret.”

Rolling his eyes, Blaine looked down at the grass.

Patting his friend on the arm, David asked, “You too spent a lot of time together over the summer?”

Glancing up, Blaine replies, “Yes.”

“He asked you to transfer?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to transfer?”

“I don’t know…yes…but…”

“No buts Blaine. We saw sorrow on your face the day we sang goodbye to Kurt at McKinley. It’s been lingering in your eyes ever since. You do love him?”

Turning so that he sat sideway on the bench, Blaine looked at David in the eyes. Unable to sustain the gaze he looked down at his hand, “Yes…very much.”

Placing a hand on his fellow Warblers’ shoulder, David said, “Then you have to do what you heart tells you. Blaine, I’ve been with Betty for two years now. I would love to be in the same school with her but I wouldn’t look good in a dress.”

Blaine chuckled. “Right, she’s in a girl’s school.”

“Yup.” David smiled. “It’s hard Blaine. You have the chance to be with Kurt. Take it. We’ll all miss you but if it’s what you really want, none of us will hold you back.”

“David, it’s not that easy. You’re all like family.”

“Blaine it’s that easy. You’re gay. It isn’t as if there a gay boy hanging from every tree.”

Laughing, Blaine’s mood brightened.

David grinned and added, “Don’t stay miserable. You found someone you like very much. We might be young and at the beginning of life but don’t screw it up. I’ll probably end up marrying Betty. Yes, I’m young, but I know what my heart is saying. Listen to yours.”

“David?”

“Blaine, we’ll always be friends but the needs of the heart is more exclusive. Don’t waste it.”

A couple of hours later, Blaine dropped his bag beside the back door and slipped his shoes off. Tie ripped off and his shirt open three buttons, he carried his Dalton jacket scrunched up in his right hand. The gurgling of the refrigerator made for odd background music within a quiet house.

Crouching down he remained still for a moment. His jacket tumbled from his hand when he steadied himself. He pondered the silence. It both ate at him and soothed. Sucking in a heavy breath he slowly stood. Puttering over to the cupboard he extracted a glass and then went to the fridge. The door opened, a carton of orange juice found its way into his hands. Putting it all away, he turned and pulled a chair out from the table. Sitting, he sipped on the sweet liquid.

“Is that you, Blaine?” a female voice called from somewhere else in the house.

Startled, he hesitating for a second and then answered, “Yes, mom.”

“I thought I heard something.”

“I didn’t hear anyone. Did I wake you?”

“Na, had my head in the toilet.”

Blaine’s face balled up. Then his mom came around the corner along with the smell of cleaner. She stopped two steps into the kitchen. Her son said, “Hi mom.”

Pam stared at her disheveled son. Slowly walking over to him she bent down enveloped her him in her arms. “What wrong?”

Enjoying the warmth of his mother, Blaine leaned into her. “Nothing, mom.”

Stroking his stiff, messy hair she asked, “What?”

Pulling away from his mother, Blaine looked at her with fear in his eyes.

Stepping back, Pam pulled out a chair and sat. “Blaine?”

“Mom, no one beat me up or harassed me. It’s…” He paused and looked into his mother’s eyes. “…mom I want to…I’m…”

“Oh, my dear boy,” Pam suddenly leaned forward pulling him into a hug again. Silence ruled for a number of seconds and then she asked, “Its Kurt, right?

Shaking, Blaine rested his head on her chest. “Yes.”

Tensing up, she said in a firm, almost hard tone, “What has he done?”

Blaine pulled himself up straight. “Nothing mom.”

“Then what?” His mother looked baffled.

His heart pounded in his chest, Blaine stared at his mother with a hurt look. “Mom, he wants me to transfer.”

Suddenly relieved, Pam shook her head as a large smile pulled at her cheeks. “Is that all?”

Surprised, her son stared back.

Pam chuckled. “I’m not your father, dear. I’ve watched the two of you.”

Blaine withdrew ever so slightly.

“Do you really care for him?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve kissed?”

Blaine blushed. “Yes.”

“You’ve…?”

His eyes went wide. “Mom…no?”

Pam released a thankful sigh. “You want to do…that?”

“Mom?” Blaine face got redder. Lowering his head to the right he found it hard to gaze at his mother.

Gripping his chin gently, Pam turned Blaine’s head so that he looked at her. His soft hazel eyes looked red. “McKinley isn’t Dalton. It won’t have the same rules. People will pick on you.”

Blaine bravely said, “Kurt got picked on a lot. I…I helped him.”

Pam looked startled.

“Mom, I ran from my old school. Kurt faced it and while it’s not perfect, his friends respect and protect him.”

“Blaine, his friends aren’t your friends.”

“But, they can be.”

Giving her son a knowing smile she asked, “You want to be close to him?”

Blaine pulled himself upright. His brow furrowed. “Why are you asking me all this?”

His mother pulled her lips in and pushed them around. “I just want to be clear this is what you really want.”

“Mom, I hate being apart from him. He’s all I think about.”

“You’re young. You sure this isn’t just a crush?"

“Mom, he sang a song this spring that melted me. Later that week I kissed him for the first time.” Blaine sighed, his face grew a deeper red.

“You’re set on McKinley?”

“Mom, it aches…in here.” Blaine placed his hand on his chest as he stumbled on the words. “I…I don’t know…I just don’t know…but…wow…being with him just makes me feel…complete.”

She placed her hand on his thighs. “If this is what you really want, I’ll not stop you.”

Staring at his mother Blaine’s chin hung low. “Mom, I really want this.”

“Christ,” a deep, heavy tone growled from behind. Daniel stood in the door Blaine failed to close. He stared for a long time. Turning away he scuffed the Dalton jacket across the floor with his feet muttering to himself, “I can buy a new car.”

The careless hurt of those words ate into Blaine for a long time. Now an adult, the meaning became very clear. Closing his eyes tightly and opening them again, the image of his father faded away into the shape of a lean, former Warbler. Why did he think of this now?

The thought rolled through his mind along with the impression of a snake slithering through the corridors of the school he loved. Then, somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt the presence of two men on a hill. Walking side by side in the driving rain, one of them had ridden all night just so they could meet. Down the slope and beyond a ridge rested a large manor house. The man who lived there with a women he deplored and children he endured, sent a note in desperation. For nearly twenty years they lived in abject misery. The snake that ruined happiness no longer dwelt in the world. The noose fell away along with all restraint. A far off land awaited them.

A far all land? A different school? The parallel sent a quiver up an old man’s spin. In a few months a snake would spit venom in his eyes.

With a funny look on his face, a thirty something year old Sebastian leaned closer. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Blaine regrouped. Internal timing spoke of mere seconds.

With a wicked grin, Sebastian responded, “Nice to see I had such an effect on you.”

Staining to smile, Blaine said, “You caught me by surprise.”

“Cute.” Sebastian wiggled his nose back and forth.

Blaine blushed ever so slightly.

“Yeah, you’re really cute, Blaine.” He offered a hand.

Eyebrows pulling together, Blaine regarded Sebastian.

Giving the other man a sexy grin, Sebastian pushed the hand forward. “Come off it Blaine, that was years ago.”

Nodding, Blaine took the hand. The instant their skin touched something inside him stepped back.


	29. Somethings Never Change

From the back of the lines of teenage men Trent pushed forward with a smile on his face. He announced, “We’d sound so much better with you back in the mix. Is this your triumphant return to Dalton? Please?”

The Warblers all pulled closer, their faced saying hello to an old friend. One remained behind. Blaine found his eyes going to him. Regardless he said, “Actually, I’m here to invite you guys to my opening night at McKinley. West Side Story! I reserved a whole block of tickets just for the Warblers, it’d mean the world to me if you guys could come.”

The pack became excited.

A tall thin teenager stepped through the crowd with a determined look on his face. For a split second the hairs on the back of Blaine’s neck stood on in. Beady, untrusting eyes bore down on him. An old man quaked at the thought. Sebastian may have learned something from Karofsky but he lost all that when he passed the bar. Later in life he earned a certain amount of fame defending a man who killed seven people in a night club. Witnesses and evidence stacked up against the accused but Sebastian twisted his way into a lesser charge. The riots that followed rocked Atlanta for days. The National Guard had to be called in. The overcrowded city teamed with hundreds of thousands of people who had resettled from the coast where cities like Miami flooded. Those killed had been considered outsiders. 

Once more Blaine’s eyes went up to his departed Kurt. He shook his head. The man he remembered caused the couple no end of trouble. What started out as a coffee get together ended up being something provocatively uncomfortable? Decades later the words still resonated within an old man’s head. Sebastian texted him first and that started a back and forth that seemed innocent for a time. The lanky teenager excited with his boasting of foreign intrigues. He exuded confidence and a certain animalistic charm. 

“So you’re a legend at Dalton,” the younger Sebastian commented in an off handed manner. He leaned back in his chair with the posture of a tiger waiting to strike. 

Bashfully, Blaine replied, “Well, I…”

“Don’t be modest.” Sebastian calmly interrupted with an impish grin. “I was like, I don’t know who this Blaine guy is, but apparently he’s sex on a stick and sings like a dream. So. Sucks that I missed him. Alright. Since I’m working to recreate your…I need to ask - why did you leave Dalton? Were you bored with all the preppies around here? Or is it that you broke too many hearts to stay?”

An old man remembered blushing at the sex on the stick comment even though the pounding in his heart yelled out a warning. His younger self stumbled for a moment, “Uh, it wasn’t like that. Let’s just say that I miss Dalton every day. But McKinley is where my heart is now.”

That conversation left Blaine feeling elated and conflicted. The older man understood now but in his youth, excitement gripped him. In the intervening days Blaine made certain innuendos to Kurt. The naïve and lovely boy seemed oblivious to Blaine’s looming needs. 

The text came before the end of class. Sebastian wanted to meet at the Limabean. Blaine made the justification, what would it hurt? Sitting at the table facing one another, Blaine felt nervous. Sebastian seemed so worldly. He experienced Paris and obviously other aspects of life. He had a single mindedness that Blaine found somewhat disconcerting. 

Impishly grinning, Sebastian said, “And your whole bashful schoolboy thing? Super hot.”

Shocked and flattered, Blaine felt his heart race. The ideas of someone being so brash and forward excited the yearning virgin. Before him sat opportunity to solve his raging need to let his hormones have their way with him. On the other hand, being with this leggy teenager would certainly harm something Blaine held dear. The conflict tugged at his heart. The inexperienced boy really liked the sweet romantic dance he and the charming boyfriend partook in. It did something to his heart that made him feel comforted and warm. This thing Sebastian offered pulled at the raging animal within. He wanted that so bad but he also desired the tenderness of a snug blanket. 

In the realm of an old man, he recognized it as the first hint of what he now struggled to accept. Somehow a part of him felt a presence close by. It reached out like a hand soothing a tense back.

Staring at Sebastian a great sense of purpose gipped young Blaine. In a firm tone he responded, “Look. Sebastian. I have a boyfriend.”

“Doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.” Sebastian retorted straight up and without reservation. 

His eyes bore into Blaine. Cunning ambition lay there like a rattler ready to strike. Part of Blaine felt the trap seething about him. Something more physical shifted in his pants. Then a calm sensation touched him and a cool breeze lowered simmering hormones. A young man said, “No, I mean, I really care about him.”

Without care, Sebastian enforced, “He doesn’t need to know.”

Flustered by the bold words Blaine blinked. That sense of security hovering behind him brought clarity of mind. Bravely he said to Sebastian, “I just never want to mess my thing up with him, in any way. He’s really great.”

Then Kurt stood there beside him. The sweet boy must have heard most of what has been said. That did not deter Sebastian. He continued to text and call. His point became more and more blatant. Fear tore at unskilled emotions as a serpent played with raw, intense physical longing. At Scandals he used drink to ply an ex-Warbler. Luckily, and peculiarly, Karofsky’s conversation with Kurt caused the lovely teenager to grow a back bone. One boy gave the other boy a longing look. It must have finally pushed Kurt over the edge. Out he came, like a shining knight, throwing himself between two forces.

Adult Blaine shifted as he grabbed more sugar and added to his coffee. His eyes locked on an older and eager looking Sebastian and then the memory of a dying man flipped to a conversation in the councilor’s office. At first his voice had a harsh ring to it but as the words passed his lips they softened. “Well, uh, first Kurt has been texting this guy, and I got really upset. Although, a while back, I was sort of doing the same thing.”

The admission stung more than Kurt could have imagined. Later, when his love faced all the crap concerning Chandler, Blaine finally admitted something he hid for a long time. Prior to his eye surgery, Trent visited. He seemed ashamed to be there but then he broke down and told the truth. Sebastian had boasted he had slipped ecstasy to Blaine’s drink. Too embarrassed to bring it up, years later he resurrected an old wound hoping somehow it would help him sympathize with his suffering husband. It failed miserably. The couple did not talk to three days.

Kurt broke the nervous silence with a tearful apology. The idea of that snake slipping E into the drink of the man he loved pushed him over the edge. Yes, Sebastian showed a nice side when the Warblers helped with the proposal. At the time he may have acted out of remorse but the silver lining had an iron edge. Shortly after that amazing day Sebastian started to text Blaine again. It started out innocently enough but then he got raunchy. It did not take long to figure out that everything became a game to the Warbler - help Blaine and Kurt find themselves and then try to split them up. Blaine told Kurt right from the start. Not amused. Kurt however thanked Blaine for his honesty. The topic of Sabastian remained sore spot with Kurt for a good part of his adult life. 

In the reality of life, a snake shifted its oily hand within Blaine’s. The skin tingled with revulsion followed by an urgent sense of familiarity. In that instant the fuzzy haired man sensed a heightened affinity with his adorable lover. In that odd way the lovers overlapped, Blaine saw lightning flashed over the ocean. An eerie chill ran up his back as he saw two men running toward the shoreline. In their sixties, one had to hold the other up to stop him from falling over. The one needing help wore a long coat of the mid-Victorian era over a bare torso. Blood dripped on the rocks. Mud and dirt coated the other man’s finery. 

The crack of a rifle echoed from behind. The sand and rock to the right lifted with impact. A second shot caused salty water to splash into the air. The man in the finery lowered his wounded lover into the boat pushing it away from the rocky beach. Wet up to the knees, a third shot rang out. Fine black fabric split and turned red as the man spun around falling into the waves. Hazel eyes looked up the slope where a tall, thin man in his mid-sixty reloaded his rifle. The wind whipped up a dark blue cloak with the emblem of a red bird on it. 

An old man gasped and then he felt something shift. Echoing from the past, a young man thought of something other than what memory revealed. He stood on a stage facing a handsome boy with a tense look on his face. Familiar, calming and apologetic words strongly pushed a less settled reaction away. 

“…hold it to your heart,” the thought reverberated.

“Just like the song?” a sweet, heavenly voice replied.

Both men felt the muscle pumping strongly underneath. Reassuring and filled with longing, it bound them together.

“Like the song. Kurt…Sebastian doesn’t mean anything to me. And you were right. Our first time shouldn’t be like that. I was drunk, and I’m sorry.” Young’s puppy eyes teamed with emotion. Sorry, uplifted an aging heart. In the place only memory knew, his younger self discovered the certainty behind, ‘I love you’. 

Blinking, Blaine felt his back stiffen. A seconds had been lost in thought. Shivering, he withdrew his hand. The moment skin pulled away from skin, the mass of jumbled thoughts cleared. Part of him wanted to scrub his palm clean. An icky numbness continued to fester in the man opposite him. Luckily, a pinning teenager had satisfied his curiosity and found a happiness beyond bounds. 

The lawyer gaze held a collected appearance of cunning. Eyeing the shorter, former Warbler up and down he said, “You haven’t changed much at all, Blaine. A little beefier is a good thing.” 

Shaking his head, Blaine noted that twinkle in Sebastian’s eye. Turning, he averted his eyes. Dumping more sugar into his coffee and said, “I see you’re the same.”

“Good wine ages nicely,” Sebastian looked to the barista cutting the person next in line off. “Can I have a large cappuccino latte with a double shot of cavasier.”

“Missing Paris?” Blaine grinned. He picked up a napkin and innocently folded it over his fingers hiding his wedding ring. He then picked up his coffee in the same hand. 

“They finally civilized coffee in America. About frig’n time.” Sebastian stepped away from the coffee bar where he had cut in on someone and leaned against the edge of the prep stand. “So what have you been up to?”

Without looking at the man, Blaine kept his answer brief. “Broadway?”

“Oh, not a surprise,” Sebastian ran his tongue across his lips. ”You doing any good?”

“Three plays on the go.” Sipped his coffee as his eyes went briefly to the door. 

“Always knew you would make it,” Sebastian gave Blaine one of those cocky, charming grins. “With that dreamy voice and smothering good looks of yours the world should be falling at your feet.”

“And you.” Blaine ignored the obtuse attempt of seduction. 

“Living in Miami.” Sebastian grinned. “I’m a junior partner in a law firm.”

“No surprise there.” Blaine cleaned up the spilled sugar with his free hand.

“How about we sit and catch up,” Sebastian suggested as he snatched up the cup the server placed on the counter with a playful grin.

Glancing at his watch, Blaine shrugged. Walking over to a low table he sat so that he faced the door. Sebastian took the seat opposite and found himself gazing at a large, garish painting. Shifting the chair to the right, Blaine ensured he could see the entrance. 

Sebastian adjusted his body so that on foot fell close to Blaine’s. “Do we talk of the good old days?”

“First, will you excuse me,” Blaine pulled his out his cell phone. “I should text my stage manager telling him I’m going to be late.”

“By all means,” Sebastian flipped his right eyebrow up and smirked. Sipping on his latte he glanced over the Blaine from an angle. 

Typing away out of view under the table, Blaine commented without looking up. “Life is full of all sorts for surprises. I would never have guessed I would have run into you.”

Smiling Sebastian commented, “It’s a small world.”

“You’re here on business?” Blaine purposely kept his phone out of sight. 

“Fact finding. I have a huge case down in Florida that involved corporations up here. They sent me up to chat and look into New York laws.”

“Sound exciting.”

“I’m enjoying myself.” A foot under the table bumped up against Blaine’s. “I’m at a hotel a couple of blocks away around the corner.”

Sipping his coffee, Blaine innocently shifted his chair so that he could cross his legs. 

Alter the angle that he sat at, Sebastian leaned back. “Broadway, then?”

Turning himself just a tiny bit more, Blaine stated, “Yeah, it’s pretty exciting. Keeps me busy.”

“And out of trouble?”

“Pretty much.”

“That sounds boring.” The lawyer sipped his coffee. A foot pressed up against an ankle. 

“I like it.”

“So what’s the night life like? I bet it’s hot.”

“You haven’t tried?”

“A guide would be nice. I bet you have a whole stable of admirers.”

Blaine shrugged. “I guess I could but then, I don’t get out much. Maybe the occasional Friday or Saturday.”

“Oh, how Lima of you. Trying to keep you county cuteness?”

Smiling Blaine picked up his coffee and took a good draft. A foot rubbed up against his calf. “I like to think I’ve not changed that much.”

“You live in the big apple and play like you’re in that hick town still.” 

“Not really. I have found other things to keep me occupied. Theater life has its own excitements.”

“All those boys in hot tights.”

“That too.”

“Yes, cod pieces and the round butts of nibble dancer.” Sebastian smirked as he inched closer.

“Life’s been good. I just got back from a trip to Europe,” Blaine looked at Sebastian while watching the door. People came and went. The locally owned coffee house did a better business than the chain store across the street. It recently started to offer liquor to compete. 

“Played about in Paris and Berlin?” Sebastian rubbed his foot up and down the leg it pressed against. 

“Went to Amsterdam, Vienna, Salzburg and Lisbon.”

“Austria is a bit severe but I bet you broke a few hearts in Amsterdam.”

Nodding, Blaine recalled making love to Kurt in their tiny stateroom. He fondly smiled. “You could say that. But how is the legal life?”

“Still playing the hot, bashful type. You’re so cute” Sebastian tapped Blaine’s calf while he drew a draft of hot liquid into his mouth. “I love it. All that schooling I talked my father into paid off. I’ve argued a couple of cases before the Florida Supreme Court. What a thrill.”

“Good for you. Doing something worthwhile then.” Shifting in his chair Blaine moved his leg away. 

Not perturbed Sebastian’s foot followed, “Do you remember your days at Dalton?”

“I had some of the best days of my youth there.”

“I bet you did. You were king of the roost and stinking hot.”

“You know it burnt down?”

“I heard about that.” Sebastian shrugged.

Blaine frowned.

“You got upset about that,” Sebastian laughed. “The place was tolerable.”

“Then why did you go there?” Blaine looked at his cell on his lap as he sipped his coffee. The reply pleased him. 

“It was close to home and the best dad could find. If I had my way I would have preferred something in Boston or Washington. What dad want’s, dad gets.” The lawyer sipped his coffee. “Besides it was fun toying around with all those naïve kids. Some of them were so stupid.” 

“That’s a dreadful way to look at things,” Blaine commented. He turned sideways in the chair getting out of Sebastian’s reach.

The troublesome, former Warbler frowned. “What’s so wrong with that? There are better places in the world.”

“Lima’s a nice place.” Blaine accused. An eye went over Sebastian’s shoulder. The man he waited for walked in and looked around.

“Oh, please, Lima is such a backwater. Look, at yourself, you left.”

“To pursue my passion.”

“Oh, really? What might that be?”

“Theater.”

“That’s as lame.” 

“To each their own.”

“Yup.”

Blaine noted his friend spotting his location. At first the man smiled and then frowned. “There had to be something in Lima you liked?”

“Yeah, one thing I liked and he played games.” Sebastian leaned forward with a grin before throwing himself back into the chair. 

Blaine gave Sebastian a stern look. “I’m being serious.” 

“So am I, but I will play your cutesy game. Lima, right.” The lawyer ponder his words for second. “You want to know what made me tick there. Scandals was fun. Got some good ass there but...well you know. The place was a shit hole. Why my dad chose it I do not know. I was so happy when I got accepted to Stanford. The party life is better.”

“I guess it would be.” Blaine sipped his coffee. The person he had come here to meet moved closer and then suddenly stopped. His brow tightened. In an innocent manner that Sebastian may not intercept, Blaine shook his head. 

Sebastian sat forward and winked. “Oh, yeah. Stanford’s nice and the boys easier than you.” 

“Not all of us want just…that.”

“Come off it, we all want THAT.” Sabastian suddenly placed a hand on Blaine’s knee and squeezed it. “Why don’t we blow this joint and I could show you what Lima could have been like.”

Removing the hand, Blaine smugly stated, “Sebastian, I’m with someone.” 

“You still on the lame game. What they do not know won’t hurt them?” Sebastian made a face. “Gods, don’t tell me your still with that nelly Chutney ferret?”

Blaine frowned and looked passed Sebastian with a wink. 

“He married that nelly Chutney ferret,” Kurt suddenly injected with a deadpan look. He held a phone in his hand.

Jumping in his chair, Sebastian turned. 

The look on his face pleased Blaine. Grinning, he said, “Meet my stage manager.”

“Kurt,” Sebastian looked put out as he pushed his chair back. It loudly scrapped across the floor. He glared at Blaine. 

Strolling past the sleazy former Warbler, Kurt pulled up a chair and sat beside his grinning husband. The two kissed. Through the oddness he felt now and then, Blaine heard a warning coming, from all people, Karofsky - better watch your boyfriend. However, he sensed that somehow Kurt recognized a shift. His lips projected a playful enthusiasm. 

Kurt smiled taking his husband’s right hand in his. The white gold ring caught the light. Blaine put his cell on the table and covered Kurt’s hand with his left allowing the light to catch the metal on his finger. Kurt said. “Nice to see you, Sebastian. You haven’t changed much other than the thinning rug.”

The lawyer struggled for a moment but like a good attorney he quickly recovered, “You look about the same Kurt. I take it life has been good to you.”

Leaning into Blaine, he purred, “Very.”

“So, when did you get married?” Sebastian’s brow creased. Catching him off guard left him a little edgy.

“Not long after I graduated. It was a lovely and surprising wedding,” Blaine smiled at Kurt. 

Kurt kissed Blaine’s hand. “A truly wonderful day.” 

Sebastian cringed. He turned his coffee cup between his fingers. 

“If I knew where you were, I would have sent you an invitation, Sebastian,” Blaine said with a serious face. “But then you left that hick town.”

“Yes and thankfully.” The lawyer took a long draft and set his cup down. He looked about.

“I thought you liked it there,” Kurt mused. “I heard some many stories about you and Scandals.”

Sebastian blinked.

“Karofsky told us.” Kurt glanced at Blaine squeezing his hand. “We went to his wedding. Do you know he married one of the president’s cousins? Wonderful chap.”

“Hillary and Bill were fun. We sang at her second inauguration.” Blaine said with a straight face.

The lawyer glanced suddenly at the door. He looked a tiny bit upset.

“Are we keeping you?” Kurt innocently asked.

Glancing at his watch, Sebastian lied, “I have dinner engagement.”

“Pity, you could have come over to our place,” Kurt offered. “We live a few blocks away. It looks as if it will be wonderful evening to walk home with the twins.”

Sebastian made a face as he rose. “If you would excuse me, I should get going.”

He departed without looking back. When he cleared the door, Blaine burst out laughing. Kurt gave his husband sideways look and then joined in. Putting his phone on the table, the bubbles of text read:

Blaine: Bumped in Sebastian. Nothing’s changed. Usual place. Hurry. ♥♥♥ 

Kurt: Bastard. ☺☺☺


	30. Demons

Rolling his head from lifeless Kurt’s arm old Blaine pushed it into the pillow behind him. The plush item slid down and now rested on an odd angle. He normally snuggled up with his equally frail lover in his pajamas, under a blanket with his head resting on a thick pillow. Lying there felt so comforted and safe. Besides, it also warmed arthritic joints. Age obviously slowed somethings down. They replaced a number of intimate activities with loving companionship, gentle touching and long moments in one another’s arms. When the realization finally slipped into his consciousness, Blaine had been lying in Kurt’s arms against the other man’s chest. Someone on the holographic entertainment system made jokes before an audience of thousands. They celebrated a long, illustrious carrier of one of their own. 

The exact moment he realized something seemed out of place did not registers. Kurt had his arm wrapped about him with a hand rested on his bicep. Perhaps the fact Kurt’s nasal exhaust no longer played through what remained of his natural curls became the first hint. Raising his head so that his neck stretched an old man’s eyes revolved up in a vain attempt to see the man he loved. Stark hesitation gripped him along with an unreasonable sense of peace. Neither numb nor shocked, he just rested there in the arms of the man he loved gazing up at a handsome face. The first tear came when his conscious mind finally grasped reality. A long, hard shudder racked his body and then he pulled a limp hand up to his lips. Pressing it against his face, sat first he did not really feel sorrow. Their lives had been good and complete. Grief would come, but not just yet. What he endured consisted of an odd sensation of detachment. His heart pumped and he felt the subtle changes in the temperature around him. 

Seconds ticked by. Slowly a remorseful man felt something strange press down upon his forehead. It did not seem to radiate from within like his frequent headaches. Somehow it seemed to come travel along a fine thread to a point above him where it fanned out. For a brief second the recognized what looked like a minute root projecting itself from a vast tree. Covering all of creation in a massive lattice it somehow touched every living thing. Existing in a place beyond the constructions of a human mind, the physical world meant little. Its energy presented itself as something beyond the comprehension of a three dimensional mind. In the context of what he witnessed, all that mattered resided within the elemental nature of the soul. 

In this way, a withering man began to see that Kurt existed as his everything. All the world rotated about him. Even as the light of the physical body vanished and the silence deafened, something endured. For decades he had heard that heart beside him. It kept him going through hard and good times. Now, as the end neared, he finally found that slither of truth he had been seeking all his life. It lay within a man who had held his hand through it all. Unfortunately Blaine did not recognize his stumbling footsteps. 

Agony struck without warning. The heart squeezed within its cage but this time not because the body failed. Old Blaine felt suddenly, disturbing guilt. A poisoned pill dissolved within innocent, enthusiastic and manipulative fun. Contrary to a subtle desire, it pulled everything to the right where unknown forces played. The breeze like dynamism swirled down from above. Swooshing along the side of the head, for a second it felt as if lips pressed against his right ear. The faint odour of a loved one passed under his nose as the gently tumbling air shifted the exposed hair on the chest. Rolling up his neck to the left ear almost none existent words drifted into the hearing channel. 

A chill ran up and down painful nerve endings. The eeriness of a diminished heart lifted as if someone messaged it back to life. He weakly gasped, “Kurt?”

A pained heart skipped a long beat. The throbbing subsided allowing an easy breath. As if a hand guided him, Blaine’s thoughts rolled back into those things that logic said cannot be transformed. In that odd way something did change. An old man sensed his memories as if two people occupying the same space. The ghostly form lingering on the edge of failing consciousness aided in the only manner it could by adding new experiences to the meanderings of a frail mind. Within the subtleness of an extended root, a presence continued to hover protectively nearby. Love wrapped about a dying form jealously allowing the mixing of the past to cradle a crippled man. 

“You enjoyed that,” Kurt shifted the chair. He beamed at his mischievous husband. 

The words echoed the deepest corners of an old man’s mind as if someone whispered them within infused layers of emotion. The newness of this sensation flowed in a realm beyond that of a young man where hazel eyes gazed at Kurt. Full lips stretched into a smiled. The sarcasm of Blaine’s response eased trepidations, “It had a hint of satisfaction to it.”

“More like revenge.”

“That too.”

“You have an evil streak husband of mine.”

“Won’t you like to find out?”

Kurt seductively gazed his he husband from an angle and then his face became dramatically serious. Suddenly he had an urge to snatch up his husband’s phone and check its history. Resisting, his lips moved to the right. Thoughtless words tumbled from his mouth in low, hard tones, “You just happened to run into him?”

Pain exploded onto Blaine’s face. His back slapped the chair as if the force of a hand splashed across his cheek. He jaw fell. Elsewhere an aging man felt his thoughts weaving into those emanating from a thin, healthy root. 

Kurt’s eyes went wide. The flames of simmering anger faded as ice fell all about him. Face flashing red, Kurt snatched up Blaine’s hand squeezing it. “Dearest, I’m sorry. It’s…well…you know how much that man…bothers…me.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Blaine glanced away and then back again. The look on his husband’s face made him feel uncomfortable. The things his older self felt, playfully tantalized. Sighing, a young man grinned. Patting his husband’s hand, he whispered, “I understand.”

Kurt squeezed again, his lips curling up into a charming but subdued smile.

Leaning into his husband, Blaine held his gaze for a moment. In a meaningful tone he said, “Let me get you a coffee and then we can talk.”

“About?” Kurt gave him an oddly hard stare. His body temperature rose.

Getting up, Blaine pressed his hand against Kurt’s cheek and said, “Past demons.”

The sight of Blaine’s swaying posterior made Kurt smirk. The look on his face splashed into fear just as fast. Blue eyes went to the door and then back to his husband standing in the short lineup. His brow netted together as his eyes narrowed. Demons? What demons? It did not take him long to realize his closet had a few misdeeds hanging in it. Letting out a sigh, Kurt sucked back biting his upper lip. Scratching his cheek with the back of his thumb his eyebrows came together. He felt the pulse in his wrist pounding. 

Eyes going down to the floor thought etched itself into his brow. Breathing in, he quietly muttered to himself, “Na…before Blaine…nope, was a kid…that, well it might not count…or maybe it might. Bugger.”

Rubbing his hands together, Kurt continued to watch his husband. The man looked content. Perhaps a bit too content. A vile person had just swept out of their lives like a tornado must have left some oily residue behind? Other than high school there had been no encounters with the self-absorbed bastard.

Eyes drifted to the door again. The specter of a ghost hung silhouetted in the sunlight as if laughing. Uncomfortable pressure encroached upon Kurt’s chest causing the lingering vestiges of dreadful imagination to liquefy. Shaking his head, he glanced toward the lovely man standing in the line. Blaine glanced back every so often with a playful look on his face. Kurt whispered to himself, “What are you up to my dear, sweet, crooked man?”

This time a vacant chair sitting across from him came into view. Kurt scowled as he pulled his foot up to his knee, he balanced the ankle there. Plopping his chin in his palm her leaned forward. His eyes suddenly went wide. “He couldn’t have?”

Without moving, Kurt’s eyes fixated once more on his husband. The eyebrows feel narrowing his vision. Shaking it off, he whispered to himself. “Na, no way in hell. But…Kurt…forget it…”

Blaine looked at the dessert cabinet. Perhaps he would pick up a couple of those sugary, cream filled cookies? Kurt’s head bobbed back and forth at the thought and then he suddenly stopped. His chin dropped and he suddenly looked to the door again. ”Oh…how could I forget about…that?”

An old men rolled his head back onto the arm of his departed love. The manner in which memories melted together provided a strange new perspective. It became like reading a book where unknown aspects revealed themselves. For the first time in his life he began to realize just how complicated his love could be. It. To feel his life partner in this manner both frightened and enthralled an aged man.

In this manner old Blaine he saw himself standing at the counter. Making the order, he adding a couple of Kurt’s favourite cookies to the mix. In the corner of his eye he observed his husband. The adorable man fidgeted in his chair. Stepping to one side to wait for the order, Blaine glanced at his watch. Rachel would be picking up the twins by now. She intended to take them out for dinner and then watch the latest animated movie. Kurt and Blaine would be along later to pick them up. Again, he waved and smiled. 

Putting on a brave face, Kurt gestured back. He felt fake. Suddenly he glanced away. Twisting his wedding wing, he pulled it off for a moment. His heart stopped. Looking quickly toward the bar he hoped Blaine had not seen that. Pushing it back on, he wonder how he could do this. 

“Oh, my god, he’s coming.” Kurt tensed up. Pushing his leg off his knee, the foot fell to the floor with a thump. “Right, calm. Let’s talk rationally. It’s not that bad…?”

Returning to the table, Blaine lowered to large chocolate mochas on the table and dropped the bag of delectable goodies on the table. Sitting, he pulled his chair up so that his legs touched his husband. “They did not have the cream cookies but you always liked these ones.”

“Goodie,” Kurt’s voice rose to a high pitch. He felt himself sweating. He hated sweating. “Blaine…”

Blaine cut him off by shoving a bit of cookie in his husband’s mouth.

Gagging, Kurt swallowed it almost in one big chunk. “Blaine, I need to…”

“Need to what?”

“I…”

Blaine pulled back. “Kurt, what?”

Making a face, Kurt firmly stated, “Will you let me speak?”

Rolling his head back and his eyes to the right Blaine smirked. “You look so cute when you’re flustered.”

“Did you sleep with Sebastian?” Kurt suddenly blurt out. He fought to control his volume. 

“What?” Blaine’s eyes bulged. The shock raced through his body like a wave electricity. 

Balling his fists up, Kurt pressed them into face. “Damn, damn…damn.”

The reaction befuddled Blaine. Honest frustration infected the man he loved. Pulled his dear husband close he softly said, “You have been sliding around in the chair like a cat on a hot roof. Is that what’s bothering you.”

“Blaine, I...I’m an idiot for saying that.”

“No, you’re sweetly jealous.” Blaine took Kurt’s hands and kissed both of them. The sense of elation he felt bubbled up when his tongue racked across bare knuckles.

Quivering, Kurt stumbled, “Then…you never?”

“No, but...honestly…I thought about it…years ago.”

“After or…during?”

“During.”

Kurt suddenly looked down and away. The sight broke Blaine’s heart. Still holding his husband’s hands, Blaine caressed both with his thumbs. “Kurt, there’s something animal about him that drives me…well to distraction.”

“But…?”

“No buts Kurt. He’s dangerous. Like all animals he’ll play hard, fast and the drop you when the next fling comes along. It was almost as if he were…”

“What? A test…for fooling around while I…” Kurt shut his mouth by pulling his lips together. His face went white. Sitting there for a couple of seconds he suddenly whispered. “Stupid...me.”

Within his head, Blaine rebuked himself. On the outside he tenderly rubbed the back of his love’s hand. Sighing, he quickly decided they would not go down that path again. “Kurt, what is, is. We only learn from it. The whole sorry episode slapped me in the face with the wonderful reality that we are two souls meant to be together. You’re my blanket, my pillow and comforter all rolled up into one. You are there when I go to bed and when I wake in the morning. That is something more important than just…THAT. Mind you, you’re so good at just…THAT.”

Six words rolled about within the old man’s heart. At the same moment, Kurt made rolling, deep throated cat sound.

Blaine grinned and the kissed both of Kurt’s hands. “I can’t…”

“No, Blaine, may I?”

One of Blaine’s eyebrows went up. He had not planned for this. 

“You know when…” Kurt got cut off again.

“Dear, you don’t have to do this?” Blaine felt suddenly supper awkward. 

Pulling on hand free, Kurt pressed it against Blaine’s lips. Shaking his head he said, “You probably guessed by now.”

A gun shot and the anvil feel on the other foot. “Guessed what? That you slept with…Sebastian?”

“Good god, no!’ Kurt’s eyes went absolutely wide. 

Blaine could have choked. The look of utter repulsion rang out with nothing but the absolute truth. The manner in which his body trembled verified everything. Tightening the grip on his husband’s hands he felt everything going sideways. Blaine sorrowfully admitted. “That was hurtful and…dumb.”

“If you’re trying to make me sick, you succeeded!” Kurt exclaimed. He suddenly looked about. A few people watched them.

A thought suddenly crashed in on Blaine causing the contents of his stomach rise in his throat. Emotion sucked the air out of his lungs making his throat hurt. Irrepressibly pounding Blaine found himself gasping for breath…no!

Blinking, Kurt stared at Blaine as the colour drained from his lover’s face. His husband sat there breathing rapidly in short, staggered breathes. Fear gripped him. What to do? Scream for help? Placing a hand on Blaine’s fore arm, his husband’s eyes suddenly moved. A hand fell on Kurt’s. Blaine inhaled and the colour returned to his face. A tear glistened in the corner of his eye. 

“Blaine?” Kurt let out a loud puff of mocha smelling breath. He suddenly looked around. 

Placing a finger against his lover’s chin, all sorts of thoughts echoed about with the dark corridors of Blaine’s mind. A spike pressed through his heart. He could not believe it. It finally came. All of a sudden his mind went to the twins. How could he? How could they?

Flipping the hands over, Kurt leaned closer to his love. He whispered, “Blaine, what? Okay, he kissed me?”

The phrase caught the shaking man off guard. Staring into a set of heavenly blue eyes, Blaine managed to utter a single, shocked word. “What?”

“Sebastian kissed me?” Kurt’s face bunched up.

The words pushed Blaine back. He stared for a long moment but could not make himself release Kurt’s hands. Poor man’s heart pounded away. Blaine could feel it pulsating under his skin. Swallowing, Blaine started to say something and then looked away. A couple of people sitting nearby pretended not to be paying attention. 

“Blaine?” Kurt sounded distraught.

Shaking his head, Blaine cracked his neck and breathlessly muttered. “Now that wasn’t what I expected.”

“Honest, I didn’t start it.” Kurt’s babbled in a low tone. His eyes went every such way, a sure sign he struggled. “He just came out from around the corner and laid one on me. It…well…”

One of Blaine’s eyebrows went up. His head moved back and forth as if he wanted to say something but the words would not come out. An old man felt fate holding razor sharp blades against their chests demanding a choice. 

“He surprised me but…” Kurt fell silent. “Shit…Blaine…I liked it.”

“I wouldn’t know that. He…well…it…” Blaine leaned forward and Kurt shrunk back. Pulling one of Kurt’s hands closer, Blaine tenderly kissed it. Glancing over the knuckles, without thought words spilled from his mouth, “I thought you were going to tell me you tes…”

Kurt’s chin quivered and he tightened his grip on his lover’s fingers. “God’s no.”

Letting out a long breath, Blaine lowered his head down so that it rested on Kurt’s hands. Slowly he released his choking hold on his husband’s fingers. “Kurt, I don’t know what…I would…”

“No. It’s not that.” Kurt bent down so his head came close to Blaine’s. Their neighbours openly watched but he did not care. “I’m still testing negative.”

Blaine fell into Kurt’s arms drawing him into a huge hug. “Kurt the thought of you being…well…not being…”

“Blaine. It isn’t happening?”

“Yet.”

Kurt drew himself away from the man he adored. Pulling a hand free he ran a finger under his husband’s eye wicking the moisture away. He stared at him for a moment and then said, “Pick up your coffee and bring the treats.”

“Where are we going?” Blaine looked confused. He resisted and then his chest felt uncomfortable. Eyes fluttering the odd sensation of time somehow being stretched soothed. Within it a consciousness teetering on the edge of suffocation a strangely familiar presence flittered about. 

Two young men strolled around the corner. Each time Blaine tried to say something Kurt would shush him. Tension pulsated between the two of them. The plan died within the perplexing whirlwind of uncompromising thought. The twin’s mother had been so excited. She changed her entire evening so that Blaine could do this thing. How could things get so screwed up? 

A small, treed square with a fountain in the middle caused the busy road to circle about it. Kurt dragged Blaine there. Two men in brightly coloured pants practiced the juggling next to the fountain. The locals paid little attention to them. Children stopped and watched. The twins knew them. In their late fourties, Reggie and Fred had lived together for twenty years. 

On the other side of the enthusiastic jugglers, a group of elderly people from the nearby home sat at several tables and benches around a large chess board of black and grey cement. One of the more nimble members of the gathering moved weighted plastic chess pieces about. Today a two younger folks sat amongst them trying to get them to play by the rules. Blaine recognized one of them as Bernie’s grandson. 

The area had no playground but many local parents brought their children here. The wrought iron fence surrounding the perimeter made it a safe place. The community police post across the street added to the sense of security. Under their watchful eyes, Blaine and Kurt would allow the twins to run around with the other kids. Both felt it healthy for their son and daughter to be about other children. Next year they will be going to the kindergarten the Broadway actor’s association sponsored for members. The two men debated the options for grade one. They both wanted them to grow up as well rounded as possible but then, many New York schools had dubious reputations. Both disliked the idea of metal detectors at the doors and police in the halls. 

Holding his hand, Kurt tugged Blaine over to a bench beneath a stature of some revolutionary hero. Sitting close together the both sipped their coffee. Blaine waited for Kurt to speak but the sense he got from his husband felt weird. Then they both started to speak at once. Silence and awkward smiles followed. Finally, Kurt lowered his head as his right hand indicated his husband should go first. 

Breathing in, Blaine felt an odd softness within his heart. Stumbling, he started. “Ok…right, I want to…”

With an uncharacteristic lack of grace, Kurt bluntly cut his husband off. “Okay, what the fuck is going on here? I thought...”

The thought that came to Blaine seemed to struggle with something. Words erupted from his lips in their original form. “No Kurt, I am not dumping you for…Sebastian.”

Kurt should have looked relieved but he did not. His lips mouthing a choice, mature rated word. 

Eyebrows coming together, Blaine pondered his response. The seconds it took somehow altered the intent of the moment. “Oh my…I screwed this up didn’t I?”

‘Screwed what up.”

“I wanted to talk about past demons.”

“Why now? Why after…bumping into that…asshole?” Kurt angrily stared.

Eyes moving back and forth, Blaine felt suddenly stupid. “I’m so thick at times. My darling Kurt, Past Demons is a movie. I was asked…”

Kurt’s suddenly looked determined. Without warning, he struck Blaine with considerable force.

“Ouch.” Wheeling back, Blaine’s hand came up to his arm. It stung. 

“Oh, fuck! I didn’t mean…damn it.” Kurt wailed. His hands went in all directions.

People looked.

Shaking his head, Blaine detected that off center sensation once more. Indecision altered intention. Pulling Kurt into a hug, he said, “Kurt, I have to apologize. This didn’t turn out as I planned.”

Pushing his husband away, Kurt glared at his Blaine. His quiet tone shuttered with anger. “If this is an example of a well thought out plan…you nailed it big time.”

“Maybe I will blame it on Sebastian.” Blaine looked down. 

Taking his husband’s chin his left hand, Kurt pulled it up so they looked at on another. “That’s lame. So what was it you were trying to pull off?”

“Ok,” Blaine quickly kissed his husband. “How would you like an all-expenses paid trip to Australia? First class and five star all the way.”

“You got me to spill me guts for this?”

“No…but your admission was charming.”

Kurt hit his husband again, but this time a little more playfully. He then kissed him so hard, everything melted away. The sounds of some of the peoples around them expressed discomfort.

Pulling away, Blaine whispered, “Wow.”

Pushing his lips out making a hard face, Kurt pointed an accusing finger at his husband. “Not so fast, bucko. You’re not out of this yet. So out with it?”

“Ang Lee called me this afternoon…”

“Wait? Ang Lee? How did he hear about you?”

“Do you remember the Rainbow Room?”

“Very fondly. You were so sweet.”

“Thank you.” Blaine affectionately grinned. “However, one of June’s guest filmed us on his cell phone. He showed it to someone who showed to someone who showed it to Ang Lee. Anyhow, they are going to shoot it in Australia and New Zealand. He wants me to come to Sydney to discuss writing the movie score.”

“No shit!” Kurt wobbled on the edge of the bench.

“Yes, shit!” Blaine smiled uncontrollably. “You and the kids get to come along.”

Squealing, Kurt threw his arms about Blaine. Patting his husband on the back, Blaine enjoyed Kurt’s warmth pressed against him. It made a colossal screw up worth it. 

Kurt pulled back first. Staring at the other man, he looked suddenly confused. Then, out of the blue, he started to laugh.

“What?” Blaine asked in all innocence.

Kurt hesitated. “I thought you wanted to dredge up the skeletons in the closet.”

Brow furrowing, Blaine leaned his head against his husband. “The sight of a snake really does scramble that beautiful mind.”

Frowning, Kurt rolled his eyes and laid a hand on his Blaine’s thigh. He gently squeezed.

Drawing his husband into a light hug, Blaine whispered, “Oh, my lovely, lovely man. I don’t care about the ghouls. All I care about is you and our children.”

With his head resting on Blaine’s shoulder Kurt muttered, “Maybe it is a good thing we did some spring cleaning?”

Pulling back, Blaine purred, “Innocent you has skeletons?”

“Don’t give me that, my jaded Warbler.” A frisky dark look followed. 

“Do you really want to go there?” Mischief twinkled in Blaine’s eyes.

Opening his mouth, Kurt paused. “Ah…maybe not.”

Sitting up suddenly, Blaine had a spirited look on his face. He devilishly asked, “So what’s this about Sebastian being a good kisser.”


	31. Visitors

Kurt could not prevent himself from grinning. It had months since he had seen his friend from Lima. Pressed against his body in a tight hug the man felt a little thicker about the middle even though the firmness of his body remained. The long pony tail looked familiar but the goatee, did not suit him. It looked scruffy and half grown. The man never could grow a real beard. Well, neither could Kurt. Blaine on the other hand sprouted hair on his face like grass on a hot, wet day. The scar down his face beaconed a story. Perhaps over dinner. 

“Sam!” Blaine called out as he came down the hall. Sleeves pushed up his arms, different coloured paint coated his hands. 

“Hey there, Warbler boy?” Sam exclaimed. He strode across the tile floor enfolding his friend in a warm embrace. 

Kurt grinned as he watched his husband try not to press his mucky hand into Sam’s jacket. The two of them talked at minimum twice a month. Whenever Sam came to New York they took in a baseball or football game. Kurt still preferred to read Vogue. Blaine needed a friend with whom he could escape. Kurt had Rachel after all.

Holding his arms out as straight, Blaine hugged his best friend. “You should have called to tell us you would be early. I’m a mess.”

Letting Blaine go, Sam said, “Christ it’s good to see you.”

Kurt cleared his throat.

“Oh right.” Sam looked suddenly embarrassed. He turned and smiled at the slender Chinese woman standing in the threshold. Adorned in a full length light brown coat revealing hint of dark blue dress beneath. Long, straight, jet black hair fell over her shoulder and down her chest. Bright red lips and large dark eyes rounded about a gorgeous look. A lengthy golden chain fell into her cleavage and long drop earrings dangled on each side. She stood there placidly as she looked the hosts up and down. 

Sam stretched a hand out indicating the woman who barely looked to be no older than twenty five. He drew her into a close embrace. “Blaine, Kurt, this is Liu Chin.”

“Welcome to our home Liu Chin,” Blaine smiled. They had not expected Sam to bring a date. “Pardon may appearance but I’m helping our children with a project.”

“Please call me Liu.” Her low, soft word come out in perfect English. Her eyes fell on Blaine and then passed to Kurt. “Sorry we’re early. Sam wanted to surprise you.”

“Surprise!” Sam bobbed his head back and forth. 

“It is pleasure to meet you,” Kurt smiled offering a hand. 

Laying the hand on Kurt’s as if she expected him to kiss it, Liu Chin beamed. Her expression changed ever so slightly when Kurt only shook it. She politely said, “The pleasure is mine, gentlemen. Sam has told me of both of you.”

“Please come in and make yourselves comfortable.” Blaine made a gestured. He glanced at Kurt and then back. “If you would excuse me, I should clean up and see what kind of mess the kids have made.”

Nodding, Kurt watched his husband depart and then said to his guests, “Can I take your coats?”

Sam helped his girlfriend remove her coat. The form fitting dress left a little to the imagination. She smiled at him as the sleeves pulled away. When Sam handed the long coat to Kurt, she took her boyfriend’s hand. 

Suddenly she turned and said to Kurt, “Oh, one moment, I need something from a pocket.”

Folding the coat over his arm, Kurt offered it to her. Digging into the side pocket she positioned herself in such a manner so that the man before her could not be prevented from getting a good look at her ample cleavage. Extracting a small cloth bag she folded it up into her palm.

Not paying all that much attention to his girlfriend, Sam calling down the hall, “When do we get to see the little darlings, Blaine.”

“Might be a few minutes,” Blaine’s voice came from the doorway. 

“Where did the two of you meet?” Kurt asked the couple. He hung their jackets up in a nearby closet. Curiosity pushed him. This would make, what, number three for this year.

Sam smiled. “We meet at a concert.”

“He bumped into me when the crowd surged toward the stage,” Liu barely showed emotion when she spoke. 

“He has always been the Prince Charming type,” Kurt felt oddly awkward. The way she looked at him made him feel uncomfortable. 

Liu wrapped her arm about Sam’s. Her eyes however scanned about the vista offered to her. 

“How goes the New Directions?” Kurt slid the closet door shut and turned. 

“Their doing well. The competition was stiffer this year than I expected. Might be time to shake things up at bit.” Sam glanced down the hall. One of the kids made a loud noise. 

“After winning three nationals in a row, I would hope so.”

“And you?”

“We are comfortable and happy. Children turn things over enough to make life more than interesting. But, let’s not just stand here. Come in and make yourself at home.” Kurt gestured toward the living room. 

The placement of a stairwell created a six foot by six foot tiled entry which gave way to the hardwood floors of the hallway. A large mirror hung on the wall opposite the front door. Situated on the sixth floor of an eleven story building, the living room spanned twenty five feet long forming a thin rectangle half that in width. Set in brick arches, rounded windows filled the entire space. A long, cream coloured couch rested dead center in the window. Two chocolate brown high backed chair on an angle on either side of it. The cream, blue and red, modern looking area rug made the seating area look a little more filled out. Against the wall at the far end of the room sat a black, baby grand piano and a low credenza. Sheet music covered the piano and sideboard. Two floor to ceiling impressionistic paints hung on the brick wall opposite the couch. A small gas fireplace with a large oval mirror over it occupied the space between then. To the right and left of the paintings books, compact discs sat in boxes awaiting shelving. 

Double French doors led from the living room into a dining area with a table set for five people. Against the wall a smaller table, with less breakable tableware, had been set up for the kids. Next to is sat a high chair. Twelve feet wide and eighteen feet deep, it and the kitchen extended out from the building like a bay window. The same windows and hardwood floors flowed into it from the living room. An arch led into a kitchen of equal length and about two thirds the width. Cabinets lined one wall, with the sink set before an arched window. A tall, narrow wine chiller plus a black double fridge, stone and dishwasher hugged the wall opposite the entry. Translucent cabinets and an eating counter with stools under it occupied most of the other. The area about the sink opened up providing more working space. 

A single French styled glass door provided access from the kitchen to the hall. The children’s room occupied the space next to the kitchen. Nine and a half feet from door to window it stretched sixteen feet along the windows. Each child had a single bed pressed up against the end walls. Directly behind the headboard a floor to ceiling cabinet blocking part of the window. A low, rectangular table occupied the space in front of the window. Two chests for storing toys sat on the floor to the right of the door. Large area rugs hid the hardwood floor. 

Across from the children’s room doors opened up into two rooms. One consisted of storage laundry area and the other with bathroom with clawed foot tub. Brightly painted and lit neither of these rooms received outside light. 

The door at the end of the hall provided entrance to the private sanctuary. Slightly smaller than the dining area two doors led to a walk in closet and an onsite. At night the two snuggling men barely filled half their newly acquired king sized bed. For the most part the room appeared empty. They spend most of their acquisition budget on the kids. The couch and chair had been a gift from Rachel and Jesse. The piano cost a small fortune but it also became a tax write off. 

Emphasized by small lights shining down from above, several pictures hung on the corridor walls. Thick, heavy oak beams ran from along the ceiling widthwise form the windows to the inner common hallway. Spaced to match the outside windows, the bricks of the walls extended out from the normal flatness like evenly spaced, squared off bumps. Similar column like edifices occupied the spaced between windows in each room. 

The view stared into the stark wall of a modern brick clad structure across the street and the tops of large trees. Originally constructed in the nineteen twenties, the building had been one of the tallest in the area. Its facilities included a roof top deck, fitness room but no swimming pool. The suite had been extensively updated prior to occupancy. Formerly a warehouse, then a garment sweat shop and later apartments, developers acquired the building a few years ago. Extensively renovated and upgraded, the suites kept most of their original appearance. The brick look reminded them of the loft. 

“Nice place Kurt.” Given his friend a wink, Sam passed along the six foot long hall into the living room. “You moved in, what, a couple of month ago?”

“We like it but it is far from perfect. Eventually we’ll need to move up again so the kids can each have their own rooms.” Kurt walked behind their guests. 

“You could move back to Lima. For the price of this place you could probably by a mansion.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Yeah, you’d miss all this concrete.”

“We love the city.”

“You always did, but Blaine?” Sam commented as he sat beside his stunning girlfriend. “Still, I like what you’ve done with the place. Early sparseness.”

“Ha, ha. We’ll get there,” Kurt stood with his back to the open glass doors leading to the kitchen. “Rachel and Jesse are supposed to be here at the top of the hour.”

“She pregnant again, right?” 

“Six months and boy.”

“Good for them. I bet Jesse is happy.”

“I don’t think he cares either way. He is just happy.”

Slowly turning, Liu smiled at Kurt. “May I use your washroom?”

“Yes, it’s the second door on the right,” Kurt pointed down the hall.

“Thank you,” Liu grinned at her host. 

Watching his girlfriend saunter past, Sam got up and strolled over to the piano. “Someone’s busy?”

“Blaine’s on his second draft of the movie score.”

“He was so excited when he told me. You guys are moving up.”

“We haven’t made it yet, Sam. This place put us back big time. The three plays we have going keep us barely above water. If it had not been for the movie and our parents, we would be renting for the rest of our lives.”

“You’ll get there.” Sam spun around and patted his friend on the shoulder. “Maybe I’ll build you some shelves while I am here.”

Smiling, Kurt stepped into the dining area on his way to the kitchen. “You don’t have to do that. Blaine and I have not quite figured out what we want yet.”

Instantly, Sam shot back. “He’s not moving out again is he?”

Kurt’s brow pushed together and then he smiled. “You’ll not be getting a new roomie. We’re very happy.”

Sam continued to snoop about. “I think there a football game in a couple of days.”

“I’m sure Blaine would want to go. Would you like red or white?” Kurt turned toward the dining room. 

“Scotch for me and Liu prefers white wine,” Sam suggested. 

“Your, in town for a week?”

“Yeah. Liu wanted to see the big city. She’s from Nebraska.”

“You seem happy?”

“I am. Liu’s a great.”

“And work?”

“Teaching is still fun and challenging. These new kids are sharp. You know some of them have figured out how to use their cell phone ringtones to produce the music.”

“I hope the band member are not upset.” Kurt spoke form the kitchen where he checked on the roast and the other things that still needed cooking before pouring the drinks. Every so often Kurt could hear the muffled sound of squealing kids. 

“The new lot are good but I must be getting old.”

“Don’t try to relive your glory days.”

Sam laughed. “I learned a lot from our days in the lime light. Besides today’s students are more demanding?”

“I can’t wait to face those challenges with the twins.” Kurt pulled the cover off the roast so it could brown and placed it in the sink. From a lower cabinet he took out a couple of pots placing them on the stove. 

“I see neither of you learned to play a real instrument?”

“Blaine’s always plays the guitar and I can play the piano.”

“Can I tinker?” Sam asked.

“Just don’t mess up Blaine’s papers.”

“I’ll be careful.” In a matter of seconds country music drifted through the suite.

“Kurt, tell Sam to watch the sheet music.” Blaine’s voice drifted down the hall. The sound of children sort of buried it. 

Kurt gave Sam a funny look as if saying, told you so. He called back to his husband, “He’ll be careful. Do you need help, honey?”

“Na,” Blaine’s response sound distant and quiet. A child’s voice rose over his.

“I can go and help him,” Sam said from the living room.

“It’s alright Sam,” Kurt stated as he uncorked the wine. 

Turning, Kurt found Liu standing in the threshold leading to the hall. Her eyes glued to her host she said, “Can I be of any help?”

“Liu’s a wizard in the kitchen.” Sam called from the other room.

“If you sprinkle a little ginger over the roast, it will cook while it rests,” Liu suggested.

Nodding, Kurt reached up and opened a cabinet. He searched through the bottle of spices. “Light or heavy.”

“Depends on your palate. I prefer hot myself.” Liu stepped closer to Kurt. One foot carefully placed in front of another, a hand moved across the edge of the dark quartz counter top. A finger brushed against the cork. Falling to the floor it bounced. Making an effort to pick it up, she struggled with her width of his form fitting dress. The cork rolled away toward the sink.

Easily bending over Kurt scooped the stopper into his hand. Sudden anxiety gripped him. His pulse began to race and he felt flushed. Drawing in a quick breath to settle himself, Kurt straightened up. Liu stood so close he could smell her strawberry lipstick. Kurt winced. His mind abruptly traveled to a muddy time when lawyers argued over witnesses and evidence. Life seemed to drain from him.

“Kurt?” Liu queried in all innocence. She looked worried.

Abruptly pulling back, his hand caught a spoon sitting in a small bowl of cream sauce. Flipping in the air, Kurt fumbled it against his silk skirt before the utensil it clattered to the counter. Controlling his panic, in desperation he called out, “Sam, can you come in here and make the drinks, Blaine just called me.”

“I thought gays were supposed to be the greatest hosts.” The piano music ended.

Surprised by Kurt’s reaction Liu stepped back. She gave her host a speculative gaze and then started to laugh. The sound irritated Kurt. Then he noticed something that sent his heart racing. A bobbing blond ponytail gave him the opportunity to make his escape. Sweating, he stumbled as he slipped around the corner into the hall. He heard voices talking behind him.

In a few short steps, Kurt stood in the door to the children’s room. Drawing in deep breaths, he just stood there comforted by the sight of his husband kneeling in front of Alex buttoning up a shirt. Kate stood close by fiddling with her dress. An orange tarp by the window had a small table on it. The large piece of paper on it had been smeared with many different colours. Kate smiled at daddy K. Alex gave him an odd look.

Noticing his son’s face, Blaine glanced back over his shoulder. One eye went wider than the other. “What…?”

“Liu Chin,” Kurt said in a low tone. He glanced down the hall. 

Blaine’s expression changed.  
Glancing at the kids, Kurt tugged on his disheveled shirt. “I think I have better change this.”

Smoothing out Kate’s dress, Blaine stood. Gazing at his husband he finally noticed a hint of panic in his blue eyes. Giving Kurt an odd look, he said, “I’ll take the kids out to Sam.”

“But?”

“Then I’ll be right in.”

“Okay,” Kurt’s sounded upset. With a sigh he turned and left.

Blaine watched Kurt leave. He could swear. Bending down and pulled his two adorable kids to him. “Do you remember uncle Sam?”

The two glanced at one another. Kate said, “He has long hair.”

“Yes,” Blaine fiddled with the edges of the dress. “He’s out in the living room. Why don’t you go out and greet him.”

The twins looked to each other and then tore off around the corner. Raised tones went with them. A few seconds later, Sam’s voice sang out with joy.

Blaine observed the children sped away. He smiled. His mind, however, reflected something very different. His adoring husband had been through enough in the past year and a half. The look on his face told Blaine it lingered like a bad smell. He did not need that odd bubbling, distant feeling inside to know the truth. Now and then Blaine held his husband as he cried himself to sleep. 

Sighing, Blaine glanced once more down the hall toward the living room. Voices rose in excitement. Taking the short stroll to their bedroom, Blaine found Kurt stripping off his shirt. Walking up behind his husband, he wrapped his arms about Kurt’s warm, trembling body. His husband gently folded his arms about those surrounding him. Blaine softly asked, “What happened?”

Embarrassed, Kurt pulled himself free and dropped his shirt on the floor. Knees pressed up against the mattress he released a sigh. “I…had a flash back.”

Blaine drew him back into an embrace. He could feel Kurt’s heart pounding in his chest. “Are you alright?”

“Marginally.”

“That’s over.”

“Not completely.”

Taking one of his hands Blaine spun Kurt around. “I am here for you all the way, my love.”

Fondly smiling, Kurt stroked his husband’s cheek. “I appreciate how safe you make me feel.”

Noise carried down the hall. Liu’s laughter rose with the yelling of young voices. Looking at the man he loved. “Tell me?”

“A cork fell on the floor. I bent over to pick it up and she was right there in my face. I freaked.” Kurt fell silence and drew in a deep breath. “I think she’s high.”

Blaine’s face went dark. “You sure?”

Shaking his head and shrugging at the same time, Kurt pulled his lover to him and planted a firm kiss on him. The act of affection turned into a hug. Softly he whispered, “Thank you for being so special to me.”

“And you’re amazing to me.” Blaine smiled. From the other end of the suite, the sound of yelling children drew his attention away.

Pushing Blaine back, Kurt lowered his head grinning. Drawing in a deep breath, he said, “I just need a sec.”

“You sure. I could ask them to leave?” Blaine bend forward so he could see Kurt’s face.

Shaking his head, Kurt muttered. “No, no.”

Pulling in his upper lip, Blaine suddenly kissed his husband. “I’ll go be a good host.”

“Do we tell Sam?” Kurt did not look happy.

Blaine shook his head and glanced at his watch. “Let’s play it cool. Rachel will be here soon.”

“Oh, god?” Kurt moaned.

Silent for a second, Blaine suddenly rolled his eyes. “We’ll warn her. Now put something one before I…”

Placing a finger on Blaine’s lips Kurt whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Blaine winked. “Now go and try not to put something too sexy on.”

Patting his departing husband’s left butt cheek, Blaine stepped out into the hall. Pausing by the twin’s door his lips moved from side to side. He should have known it festered. Standing there for a few heartbeats a thought worried him. 

Female laugher echoed down the hall. Blaine suddenly had to think, could Liu finally be the one? The last time they visited Lima Sam introduced them to Patty. Nice girl until she got a few drinks in her and then she threw herself at everyone. Susan gave him two kids and then took him to the cleaners. Anne proved to be a nice woman. They may have made it if Sam could have kept it in his pants. Mary provided him with a son and then promptly took the boy and ran off to Canada to be with her ex-husband. The list contained numerous examples of less than stellar candidates. 

Katherine suddenly screamed and Blaine cringed. Hustling down the hall, he found Sam standing in front of the fireplace holding Kate upside down in his arms. She squealed and squirmed with delight. Alex sat on Liu’s lap. She leaned into him whispering into his ear. The hair on the back of his neck bristles as he studied Sam’s girlfriend. The moment she looked up provided confirmation - glassy eyes. Stepping into actor mode he affixed a smile to his face.

“Kate, tickle him. He hates it,” Blaine instructed his daughter. She tried to reach Sam but with little luck. She bent down lowering her to the floor, she grabbed onto his leg. In turn, Sam slid an arm under her and lifted her upright into the air. The little one laughed. 

Chuckling, Blaine’s mood shifted ever so slightly. Everything seemed harmless. Smelling the odour rising from the oven, he called to his son, “Alex, would you like to help daddy?”

Alexander beamed. The boy loved to putter about in the kitchen. Not old enough to do anything serious, daddy K and the kids often made pancakes or muffin together. Sliding down from Liu’s lap he ran to Blaine with his arms open. Crouching down, his father scooped the heavy boy up. Liu watched for a moment and then sipped her wine. Her attention shifted to Sam and Katherine. 

Hugging his son, Blaine said to him, “I need you to help me set another place at the table.”

Alex slithered from his father’s arms and ran into the kitchen.

“Where’s Kurt,” Sam asked Blaine as he faked a falling onto rug allowing Kate to crawl over him.

Blaine’s eyes briefly went to his friend’s date and then to Sam. “He spilled sauce on himself. He’s changing.”

Sam mused. “Kurt should get dirty more often.” 

“You know how much he would enjoy that,” Blaine replied as he turned to the kitchen. “Can I get you anything before I dive into the veggies?”

“I can help,” Liu volunteered with an impish grin.

“No, no, you’re our guest,” Blaine purposely expressed what he felt in an amusing manner. “Besides, I know Sam does not like to share.”

Under Blaine’s watchful eye, Alexander climbed up onto a stool. Looking to his father he reached up into the smoky glass fronted cabinet for the proper plates. The children knew that at certain times special things could be used. Cooper arranged for the eight elegant settings to be sent to them from Las Angeles. When they talked to him after the wedding he had a bit of snit, but, after an explanation he fell into line. It took him a while to come out and personally celebrate with the boys. He proved to be a gracious and caring host. That side of him shocked his little brother. 

One at a time, Alex took down a plate, side plate and a crystal goblet purposely laying them out so that he could receive his father’s approval. Blaine nodded and then the little boy climbed down from the stool even as his sister charged along the hall with Sam right behind her. Liu laughed in the living room.

Kurt entered the kitchen just barely avoiding his daughter and long haired friend. The shirt he wore had no buttons or pockets, just a V-neck. Both kids loved running around in circled from the living room through the dining room, kitchen and so on. His eyes went to the living room where Sam chased Kate toward the piano. He grabbed her and whooshed her up into the air and onto his should. Liu clapped and egged him on. He had to admit his friend had a way with kids. 

Leaning over, Blaine smiled. In a low voice, he said, “Hey sexy.”

Saying nothing Kurt kissed his husband. Bending down he looked through the glass of the stove door at the roast. Pulling on thick gloves, he drew the roast out so that it could rest. He said to Blaine, “Why don’t you let me take care of this? We have guests”

“You alright?” Blaine looked concerned.

Drawing in a breath, Kurt said, “I’ll be fine.”

Squeezing Kurt’s hand, Blaine smiled at him. Kurt tightened his grip. With a wink Blaine stepped into the dining area with the plates his son had laid out. Setting them on the table, he would have to lay out cutlery and a napkin prior to dinner. From the French doors he asked their guest, “You need another drink?” 

“Liu could use a top up.” Sam had a kid attached to each leg.

“Sam?” Blaine inquired.

“I’m good for the moment,” he gleefully struggled with two children. 

“What do you do, Liu?” Blaine asked as he turned toward the dining room.

Smiling she replied, “I’m in university studying to be a dentist.”

Opening the cooler, Blaine pulled the partially corked bottle out. “Ambitious.”

“I enjoy it. My father’s a doctor, so guess I’m following in his footsteps.” She paused. “The two of you are musicians?”

“Blaine’s writing a movie score,” Sam told his girlfriends.

Her eyes brightened. “How exciting.”

Back in the kitchen the computer screen under a cabinet made a particular sound. Tapping the corner, Rachel’s face smiled up at Kurt. “Come on up.”


	32. Dinner

Blaine greeted then at the door while Kurt tooled about in the kitchen with Alexander. Wearing a long, blue coat, Rachel stripped it off before offering it to Blaine. Behind her Jesse held Barbara in one arm and a large, over stuffed bag in the other. As soon as he wife had disrobed she turned back and took the bag with both and hands. They immediately drooped. Blaine stepped forward but she shook her head as she laid it against the wall. In the living room Kate wailed as Sam swung her around. The laughter of a woman punctuated the unruliness. 

Hugging her host, Rachel warmly fell into Blaine’s arms. Within seconds she whispered, “You’re a little tense. What’s wrong?” 

Blaine whispered, “Sam has another one.”

“Not again?” Rachel’s extended belly pushed into Blaine. 

Leaning closer, Blaine said just loud enough for the new arrivals to hear, “Something happened between her and Kurt.”

“And” Pulling back, Rachel stretched to see around the corner into the living room.

His eyes following his guest, Blaine quietly said so that only those in the entry could hear. “He’s a bit spooked.”

“Oh, dear?” Rachel looked concerned. “How is he?”

Sighing, Blaine replied, “He’s managing.”

With Barbara fidgeting in his arms, Jesse interrupted. “We can go.”

Blaine glanced around, “It’ll be nice to have reinforcements. Besides you dragged yourself here and dinner’s almost ready.”

Rachel touched her friend on the arm. She quickly glanced at Jesse who nodded his agreement. More than anyone else the two understood the event that recently rocked the two men’s lives. “Do you know what triggered it?”

Blaine shrugged and then gave Rachel a look. “I can guess but, let’s not go there.”

Mrs. St. James did not look too pleased. Placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder Jesse said, “Leave it honey.”

With the toddler squirming in his arms Jesse to crouched down. The moment her tiny feet hit the tiles Barbara wanted run. Restraining his daughter, he removed her tiny jacket. The little girl barely turned around before Kate pushed through the crowd of adults to give her a tight hug. The sudden impact of Alex smashing into his sisters almost sent them stumbling. Laughing, the children looked at one another and then ran off down the hall to the bedroom in a vociferous chorus.

“Excitable,” Jesse watched the kids mash together in the bedroom doorway. 

“You just need to look at their parents to see they are a boisterous brunch,” Sam commented from the short hall to the living room. He came around the corner holding the hands of a slender and terribly beautiful, young Chinese lady. 

Blaine noted Jiu studying the new arrivals. A hand came up as if intended to make introductions but a sudden loud thumping sound followed by shrill voices caught his attention. “Will you excuse me, I have better go and see what they’re getting into. Kurt’s in the kitchen.”

“You want me to go?” Jesse offered.

“Your turn’s next,” Blaine patted his friend on the arm and trotted off down the halls. Children’s voices rose when he stepped into the bedroom.

“Rachel, Jesse, this is Jiu Chin,” Sam introduced his girlfriend. He had his arm wrapped about her. He beamed.

“I am happy to meet you,” Jiu sad in excellent English. She offered the other woman a hand.

“Delighted,” Rachel firmly took the hand. She subtly looked the woman up and down. “Sam, you have to phone more often. You never told me you found such a rose.”

Jiu smiled as Sam’s face reddened. He said, “Sorry, Rachel. It’s been kind of crazy.”

“But not crazy enough to prevent you from skyping with Blaine two or three times a month. I thought we were friends?” She maintained a serious appearance.

Giving her a look Sam retorted, “Rachel, when you learn to like football, I’ll call more often.”

“I’ve missed you.” Suddenly Rachel threw her arms about the man. She perceived the manner in which Jiu gazed at her. 

Looking over her shoulders, Sam said to Jesse, “You put up with this?”

“One has to when you are married.” Jesse grinned.

“Men?” Rachel pushed Sam away and looked to Jiu. “We women are going to have to stick together. Where’s Kurt? Right he doing his wifely duties?”

Sam and Jesse glanced at one another and then chuckled.

Taking the other woman’s arm, the deva led Jiu into the living room. “Now tell me, how did the two of you meet? Sam’s been keeping too many secrets from me.”

Glancing back over her shoulder, Jiu gazed at her boyfriend with bewildered look. 

Patting Sam on the back, Jesse said, “A word of warning. Never contradict your wife in public.”

“The two of you went to school together as well.” Jiu said to Rachel as the came to sit at either end of the couch. 

“All four of us did,” Rachel glanced at the two men standing just inside the hall. “My doting husband was part of the opposition at the time.”

“I guess I have an ally then?” Jiu commented.

Rachel’s brow furrowed. 

The Chinese woman snickered. “I’m a woman in a strange land surrounded by the inhabitants of McKinley,”

Nodding Rachel could not stop herself from smiling. “That is one way to put it.”

“You’re not even going to say hello,” Kurt chastised. He stood in the French door with his hands on his hips.

“Oh, I saw you yesterday. That should’ve been enough?” Rachel shot back. 

Glancing at Jesse, Kurt commented, “I guess we’re facing Ms. Berry today?”

“Oh, I’ll give you Ms. Berry, honey child.” Hauling herself to her feet, she waddled over her friend and just stared. A few seconds passed and then she hugged her oldest friend. 

“That’s better.”

“The things I do to keep your devaship happy.”

“Oh, looks who’s talking, sister.”

“Doing drag again?”

“Only when I have coffee with you.”

The two of them laughed and hugged again. Leaning into her dear friend, Rachel whispered, “You’re such a show queen?”

Walking out of the kitchen, Blaine enveloped mother and father in his arms. Kissing each of them on the cheek, he said, “Our little darlings knocked over the pile of books. We really need to get some shelving.”

‘I can get started after dinner?” Sam but in.

Kurt shook his head and Blaine looked puzzled.

“Are they alright?” Rachel glanced from Sam to Kurt.  
“No harm done. Barbara is being a perfect little woman. She slugged Alex.” Blaine smiled.

“That’s my girl.” Jesse proudly commented. 

Kurt nodded. “They do like to get rough with one another.” 

Rolled his head to one side Jesse replied, “They’re kids, Kurt. They’ll skin a few knees.”

“They’re colouring now,” Blaine stated. “Alex is no artist.”

“As long as they can sing, I’m happy,” Rachel smirked. 

Having moved into the middle of the living room, Jesse studied the two large paintings. “These are new?”

“We bought them from the neighbour last week when they moved out.” Blaine let his husband and friend go. 

“They’re originals,” Jesse bent down examining the signature. 

Two fathers exchanged glanced and then shrugged. Blaine said, “Mr. Leow bought them ten or so years ago.”

Kurt added, “Mrs. Leow said they were painted by a local artist named Marcus Barriman.”

“He just showed at the Guggenheim.” Jesse made a face as he stood. Walking over to the other image he looked it up and down. “They’re nicely done. You might want to get these appraised.”

“I think we should get hold of Mrs. Leow and let her know,” Kurt commented to his husband and the glanced down the hall. Loud, young voices rose within the dim.

“Guess, that’s me.” Walking toward the hall Jesse stopped kissed his wife on the cheek.

Shifting several times on the couch Jiu looked a bit distracted. When she spoke the first few words came out slurred, “Impressionism is not my thing, but they are colourful.”

Sam walked over and sat beside his girlfriend. He took her hand pressing it against his thigh. “Jiu has a few really nice pieces from China.”

“Just a couple of vases and a large tapestry that belonged to my great grandfather.” Jiu’s right eye twitched.

“We’re planning to go to China in the spring.” Sam smiled and leaned into his girlfriend. 

Jiu gazed at Sam with what appeared to be genuine emotion. “I want him to see where I come from.”

Stepping back into the dining room Kurt felt faint. His palms itched and his body temperature rose. Looking down he noted Rachel staring at him. Taking her friend’s arms she steered him toward the arch. Behind them Sam, Blaine and Jiu spoke of the visual arts. 

Objecting Kurt growled, “Rachel?”

Disregarding the whining, she softly said, “I’ll help you in the kitchen.” 

“I guess I have no choice?” Kurt objected.

“No you don’t,” Rachel glanced back into the living room. Her eyes fell on their oriental guest. “Ok, what’s up?” 

“What do you mean?” Kurt inched around Rachel. Three pots bubbled away and a large juicy roast rested on a platter waiting for a knife to it justice. Buns and potatoes kept warm in the smaller bottom section of the double oven. 

Reaching into a cabinet for a wine goblet and a high tumbler, she added, “Blaine told us you had a flash back.”

“At times I wish he would mind his own business.” Kurt felt himself shaking and then he felt ashamed. 

Rubbing her friends arm, Rachel quietly said, “Kurt, I know the normal you and you would never say such a thing about Blaine. Again, are really you alright?”

“Shaky, but good.” Kurt admitted stirring each pot grinned at his friend. Abruptly stopping, he let out a loud puff of air. “He’s an adorable man.”

“Did Sam’s girlfriend do something? You know she’s high?”

“It’s not her.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You’re a bad liar, Kurt?”

“Rachel, I’m fine.”

“Then what?” 

Shaking his head, Kurt glared at his friend. Sighing, he said, “She got a little too close, okay.”

Looking back into the living room Rachel did not look happy. “Did she touch you?” 

“No, she just startled me.” Kurt turned his attention to the pots. 

The temperature of the upper portion of the wine cooler had been set for reds. Opening it Rachel extracted one of two decanters Kurt had set to breath. Poured the proper amount into the glass she said to the chef, “Think about it. I’ll be right back.”

Watching her leave, Kurt leaned against the counter. Staring at the decanter, he pulled his upper lip in and then reached for the nearest glass. Filling the tumbler half way he downed the contents all in one shot. Holding the glass his hand trembled. Softly putting it down, he placed his hand against his forehead only to discover he sweated. He could have explained it away as a side effect of the steam rising from the pots but he knew better. The anxiety bubbled within him ever since he found himself staring into Jiu’s strawberry lips. 

Closing his eyes Kurt stood there for a moment. Elsewhere an old man felt the turmoil within his memories. That strange joining of the spirit with reminiscence allowed him to truly feel his husband’s fears for the first time. A dying man quivered. If he had only known. Two wrinkled hands wrapped around those belonging to his departed husband. Laying his head down, he sighed. 

Drawing in a deep breath Kurt recalled the method of mediation his yoga instructor taught. So many things interrupted such as bubbling of the water and the sound of approaching footfalls. Opening his eyes, Sam bounced into kitchen with a tumbler in hand. The blond man said nothing as he topped up his tumbler with the expensive scotch. Patting Kurt on the shoulder, Sam returned to the living room where the conversation had surprisingly switched to music. Blaine sat at the piano tickling the keys. Slowly his voice rose in a song most would recognize from their days in the New Directions. 

Letting out a short breath, the sound of someone singing brought a smile to Kurt’s face. Eyes following Sam, he leaned against the arch to the dining room. Folding his arms across his chest his eyes brightened. 

 

Coming up beside her friend, Rachel draped an arm about his waist and leaned against his shoulder. “He does have a delightful voice.”

“I could listen to him forever.” Kurt’s eyes brightened. The sound of that voice passed through the suite. Once in a while the children’s yelling smothered it. 

“You will, my dear boy.” Rachel broke their silence. “Regardless of your struggles the two of you were meant to be together.”

“He’s a caring soul.” Kurt bent his head so that it rested against hers. Regardless of her shortcomings, he would not trade Rachel in for anything. She challenged him in ways Blaine could not. 

“He would have made such a fine husband. Damn that kiss.” Rachel pushed herself into her friend. She felt him stiffen.

“God bless that coffee smelling kiss,” Kurt forced himself to attempt something clever. “I’m so lucky.”

“We both are,” Rachel tapped his the top of his leg. “Just you remember that, my man. So what is really going on?”

Kurt tensed up. Unwrapping himself from his friend, he turned back to the kitchen and the pots on the stove. He sensed Rachel’s eyes follow him. There could be no avoiding it even if he wanted. Years of dealing with each other’s shit made hiding the simplest emotion almost impossible. Stubbornly he told himself he could get through this. 

Glancing back, Kurt noted his friend’s gaze. Frowning, he asked her, “Rachel, could you be a dear and lay out the cutlery for one place setting on the table.”

“I’m not your servant.” She gave him a hard look. 

Kurt smiled, “No, you are a dear friend who worships the ground I walk on.”

Stepping around the counter she wagged a finger. “No more kids, Kurt!”

The man laughed. The feeling lifted his mood. Rachel smiled as she dug into the drawer for the good flatware and a linen napkin. Picking up the decanter, she winked at her friend and went into to the dining room. Friends like Rachel could not be denied. Gently stirring the white sauce Kurt suddenly stopped. His stomach felt unsettled. Swallowing, he noticed his unsteady hand. Letting the spoon go he held his fingers up before his face. Making a fist he briefly closed his eyes to steady himself. 

There could be no denying the fact he avoided the issue. For months now he had muddle through and dealt with the few little episodes. All the bullying in school gave him a tough outer shell. Just the same, Kurt appreciated Blaine and Rachel’s concern.

Poking her head around the corner Rachel caused Kurt to start. The pregnant woman asked, “Kurt?”

Going back to stirring the pots Kurt did not respond.

“Why do men have to be so pigged head and stubborn?” Rachel sounded angry.

He could have growled, but Kurt grinned instead. “I’m okay, Rachel, really?”

Pulling out the open bottle of white from the cooler, she glared at him. “You want me to cut up the roast.” 

“I got that,” Blaine walked up behind his friend. He lightly touched her on the arm. Behind him Sam and Jiu sat side by side at the table. 

“Where’s Jesse?” Rachel asked looking about.

“Listen for the shrill voices of our children and you will find him.” Blaine maneuvered passed her. He quickly kissed his husband and immediately sensed the hesitance. Cautious not to push, he opened a drawer he found a knife and fork to cut up the roast. For a brief second he gazed at Kurt. 

Rachel nodded, “Hah, hah. I guess I should go and help.”

“Can we do anything?” Sam asked from the table. He sat in the middle of one side with Jiu at his right. Blaine would take the end of the row close to the twins. In a few minutes Jesse would position himself across from Blaine with the high chair pulled close. With Rachel in the middle, Kurt would come to sit across from Sam’s girlfriend. 

“You can make yourselves comfortable,” Kurt called back as he poured hot vegetables into the colander sitting in the sink. 

“After dinner, it’s your turn to sing, Sam,” Blaine noticed Kurt’s hands shaking. “No country.”

“Blaine?” Sam objected. 

Dinner proceeded without much of a delay. The roast bled just enough to keep it tender and potatoes, peas, carrots, squash, gravy and a horseradish sauce rounded things off. Jiu Chin’s suggestion of ginger added a bite to the meat. Everyone sat about enjoying and talking about all sorts of things. With careless disregard for decorum, Barbara pushed food into her face with two hands while trying keep it all in one place. Jiu proved to be delightfully humourous as she pushed the limits. Every so often Blaine or Kurt would excused themselves to attend to the twins.

Blaine found the evidence he hoped to avoid when he took Alex to the bathroom to clean gravy from his face and neck. Turning on the taps to warm the water, he noticed a fine white powder pressed into edge of the sink. The sight made him angry. Washing his child’s face, Baine tried not to think things. He learned a while back both children picked up on moods quickly. 

His son suddenly wrapped his tiny arms about his father. The little boy said with all innocence, “Is daddy K sick?”

Shocked, Blaine fought to retain a calm exterior. “Yes, Alex, he is not feeling well.”

“Can I help?”

“Yes. Go back to daddy K and give him a big hug.”

“I can do that.” The boy jumped up and ran out into the hall. 

Leaning against the counter, Blaine found it hard to be objective. Swearing under his breath as he soaking a face cloth, he suddenly paused. Seeing the flakes did not prove anything but the idea she would do such a thing with children present infuriated. What if one of the kids had ingested just a little bit? Breathing in short breaths he tried to push it all away. He had to maintain the façade for a few more hours. 

Wiping the quartz down several times, his mind went to Kurt. Rachel watched him as if she had given birth to him and Jesse aided by keeping his eyes on the kids. Sam appeared to be oblivious to the low levels of tension. He obviously enjoyed the presence of his oriental flower. Though he had been married for years, Blaine still felt that ‘they can do nothing wrong’ sensation from time to time. 

Splashing water on his face, Blaine stared into the mirror for a moment. After coming so far Blaine despised the thought of Kurt sliding backward. He knew their struggling made them stronger as a couple but when would they see the end. Rough times sometimes brought heated words and sometimes Blaine wondered how much he could endure. Yet, the love he felt for the sweet lover grew stronger. How could he not hold the dear man’s hand and share a shoulder? The look on his face earlier this evening sent a spike through his heart. 

The mirror before him reflected the water dripping from his face. A single drop fell from his nose. Splashing onto the side of the sink Blaine suddenly realized he shook. Did that simple droplet represent Kurt’s gentle nature slowly unravelling? That need to protect flared deep inside. Ever since the early days before that wonderful first kiss, Blaine enjoyed that feeling. As time went on Kurt grew in strength outstripping Blaine. The balance had shifted but he eventually learned it had merely transformed itself into something representing the complex duality of their lives. Now it stretched and he wanted to harm someone.

Snatching up a towel, Blaine pressed it against his face. He needed this moment to calm himself. Determined to have this evening would end on a good note, the rest could be handled after a good night’s sleep. Now he needed to be brave. Nothing would prevent him from supporting the man he adored. 

Returning to the others, Blaine cleared the plates before displaying the fancy finale to an excellent meal. Set on a tray with smaller forks and side plates, the homemade torte encompassed a mound of fresh fruit and berries. Jiu cooed with excitement while the other just stared. Blaine spend most of the morning torturing himself making the decadent dessert. Alexander and Katherine helped as best they could. The first attempt failed and they devoured the evidence before Kurt got home. Regrettably, it provided the fuel for a rambunctious afternoon.

“It’s lovely,” Jiu held her hands before her. Her eyes went at Kurt. “Which one of you do I have to thank for this wonderful repass.” 

“My darling husband can take all the credit.” Kurt proudly stated. His eyes went to the man he loved as Blaine sat on the other side of the table. 

“Blaine, you have been holding out on me,” Rachel chided. 

Kurt winked. “He’s never done that to me.” 

The usual sparkle glistening within those beautiful blue orbs pleased Blaine. Maybe he worried too much.

Rachel looked to her husband. “Perhaps Blaine can teach you a few things?”

“This recipe, definitely,” Jesse looked from his daughter to his wife and back. Barbara had the creamy filling all over her face. 

He received a puzzled look from his wife but a wink from his host.

For dessert Alexander and Katherine sat at either end of the big table with Barbara sitting in the high chair next her dad. Kneeling on their chairs, for the most part they behaved themselves. The small table meant they could have some fun but at the adult table they knew what to expect. Both fathers taught their children good manners and how to respect others. Kindergarten created a number of challenges. Most of it remained innocent but some of the words they brought home made for interesting conversations. Actual school promised to be interesting. 

Walking through the kitchen from the hall, Sam thrust his face at Alexander making funny faces. The dam suddenly burst as a mass of creamy filling found itself pressed up into adult’s face. Acting surprised Sam pulled back and then thrust his face back at the little boy. At the other end of the table, Kate squealed at the other end of the table wanting to get in on the fun. For a few moments things degenerated and then Rachel brought sudden calm with that look only a mother could make. The twins gazed at one another across the length of the table trying not to grin. Barbara threw her arms up waving a plastic spoon around. 

Reaching in from the side, Jiu ran two fingers over Sam’s nose drawing the glop of filing along with it. Poking his fingers in her mouth, she pushed them around for a few, long seconds. 

Finding it hard to hide what he felt, Blaine looked away. His eyes fell on Jesse. In turn he looked at Kurt. His husband looked uncomfortable. 

Sam used his napkin to remove the remains from his face. Smiling at Jiu he announced, “Schuester is bouncing about the idea of a New Dimension’s reunion.”

“Really?” Rachel turned to face the man to her friend. Her face mischievously brightened. “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

Standing behind his girlfriend, Sam downed his scotch. “It’s hard to compete with the infamous Ms. Berry.”

“Funny,” Rachel grinned. 

“That would be fun,” Blaine leaned forward with a look of excitement on his face. “To see everyone on the old stage again.”

“I doubt he knows that Mercedes is somewhere in Europe,” Kurt pointed out. He voice sounded a bit flat. 

Sam walked toward the kitchen. “I’ll have to let him know. Is she still on tour?”

Blaine watched his friend walk by. “Three extra shows in Berlin.”

“How do you know that?” Sam called from the kitchen where glass clinked against crystal.

“You do have Facebook, don’t you Sam?” Rachel shot back.

Standing in the arch, Sam posed in a manner Kurt might. “I live in a trailer at the end of a corn field. What’s Facebook?” 

“Artie and Tina are in California.” Jesse pointed out. He ignored the obvious attempt at humour. 

“Anyone hear from Brittany and Santana? I’ve not heard from them other than our annual skyping on our collective anniversary.” Blaine sat back, half his desert uneaten. Alexander greedily stared at it. 

Several of them shook their heads and Rachel stated, “Mike is in Montreal with his dance troupe.”

“Wait,” Kurt’s eyes bristled with enthusiasm. “Let’s do this properly. There is a lot of planning that goes into something like this. First we will need to firm up dates, the people, the venue and…”

Rachel lifted two hands. “Slow down, Mrs. Wedding Planner.” 

Kurt frowned. His right eyelid twitched. 

“Does Schuester have a time frame?” Rachel peered at Sam. “Some of us have to work. You can just park your tracker.”

Laughing, Sam snapped his fingers and then sipped his renewed scotch. “He’s thinking perhaps at the 2030.”

“Talk about planning ahead,” Rachel stabbed what remained of her dissert and shoved it in her mouth. She glanced at Kurt and her brows contracted. 

“It gives us lots of time to prepare,” Jesse commented as he wiped Barbara’s face. He looked to Blaine and Kurt. “We could plan to make it a full family affair.”

“That would be…”Blaine suddenly stopped when a fork clattered to a plate. 

Without warning the chair flew back with a crash and Kurt bolted from the room. The noise startled Barbara and she started to cry. Shortly after, Katherine joined in. With a screaming child and a distraught husband everything seemed to fall apart around Blaine. The instincts of a father suffocated his desire to run after Kurt. Sliding over to comfort his daughter, he watched Alexander at the other end of the table. His chin quivered. 

Awkwardly rising, Rachel’s face hardened. Walking from the dining room, on her way past Blaine she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Angry eyes fell upon Jiu.


	33. Honesty

Throwing himself on the huge bed, Kurt curled up in a ball with his face pressed into the pillow he hugged. Violently shaking, the strength he had maintained dissolved into the morass of quivering jelly. Lost with a dense fog the months of normalcy melted into nothing. A vile creature stood over him with offering a poisonous brew. Laughing and taunting, the man he had met in a music story once more tore at his self-esteem. Ugliness frothed up revealing things Kurt did not realize. Mangled hands scrapped across perfect skin and horrid eyes bore down on him as if he were as sandwich to a ravenous animal. The fussiness of a drugged mind revealed a careless disregard for dignity and body. Everything Kurt believe about himself fell away into massive dark hole.

Jiu’s thin brow oozed out her face twisted into a ghostly shape and strawberry lips twisted into a pale, laughing hyena. Within stoned, glassy eyes loomed the hideous machinations of a psychopath. Gloom encircled her drawing a weak mind into the abyss. She, he, hovered so close. Her breath caressing his skin smelt foul and putrid. The world tilted and Kurt felt himself sliding. A voice here and an action there became a life line. Blaine’s heavily words raised in song became a lighthouse but then the bulb went out. She sat there across from him with searching cloven hooves.

Malice and sleaze pooled about his motions dragging him down. At first it came in the guise of a cherub from the past before transmuting itself into drizzling uncertainty. The world subtly changed through the careful manipulations of miscommunication and misdirection. Those about him drifted into the back ground while in others they shone like the bright sun. Each day the creature loomed in the shadows spitting venom into the hot liquids.

Suddenly he let out a muffled scream. Clutching the top of his head he balled up as if protecting himself. Light faded from his mind and inky darkness fell. Falling, he reached out but nothing caught him. Swirling within the depths of his desolation he smashed onto the bottom of a rectangular hole. Over his head a black, boxy shadow slid into the ground blocking the last of the light. Dark, oily soil rolled down the sides as if someone above kicked dirt down into the hole. Maniacal laughter seethed within the tumbling dirt. Then someone peered over the edge. A black figure shoveled loam down upon a hapless victim.

Clawing at the falling dirt, Kurt thrashed about on the bed. Tossing the comforter over him he sought protection but the laughter danced all about him. Rolling around dense fabric spilled from the side of the bed onto the floor dragging ever once of strength he could muster into the void. Tumbling dirt held his feet fast. Bloody fingernails dug into the packed earth to no avail. The mire he stood in dragged him deeper. The truth of a fragile existence sneered and snickered.

Plummeting dirt and rock ripped his clothing bare from his body. Bubbling ink boiled about Kurt’s body. Crawling up his legs, devilish fingers raked pristine skin. The foul breath of the beast bore down on the man like some satanic curse. Enveloping his frame, the fiend penetrated and tore at faint sanity.

Wailing into the pillow, Kurt rocked back and forth. The agony of rape played itself over and over in his mind and then he suddenly felt a touch on the shoulder. Without looking he released a low, distressing yelp. Again someone giggled. The sound caused ripples to roll up and down the spin. The body seemed to veer to the right and then someone grappled him. Some part of him fought against the grasping, noxious presence. Life crumbled around him.

The subtleness of perfume almost made his heart stop. A young boy, sat on the edge of a bed holding a colourful scarf against his nose. Rocking back and forth he wished and pleaded. Long ago the heart had gone numb but the thin fabric conjured up loving and tender memories. Unable to cry he held that scent close to him. The thin, soft fabric represented everything in life.

The mattress move as if someone sat. A single, affectionate word squished out of his mouth without making a sound. The weight on the edge of the bed drew nearer. Hair cascaded over a bear arm. The comforting form of a woman pressed against him wrapping a boy in her arms. Lifting him, she pressed him against her bosom. Kurt remember that face. So sweet and tender she drew all fear away. Then the ground heaved up dragging everything into the darkness of the pit. Laughter echoed on the wind as dirt tumbled all around.

A boy called out and a man’s mind raddled out gurgling moans. Gone forever, he longed for her embrace and, if by a wish, he felt something on his body. Through teary eyes he saw a woman balanced over him. The childish grin faded into puzzlement and then deep hurt. His head flopped over as the tears began to flow.

“Kurt?” Rachel said in a soft caring voice. She slowly stroked his back.

Kurt shimmed away as he pulled his hand up over his head. Never again would he be held him in the middle to the night, fell that on kiss a skinned knee or fell her soft caress when he lay in bed sick. Pushing his head into the pillow the crying increased.

Sliding across the tousled duvet, Rachel carefully lowered her self so that she lay next to him. Leaning against one elbow single hand rested upon his shoulder. Moving it around in a gentle circle she hummed as she would to her children.

The creature slithering within drew back with each gentle stroke. Dirt no longer fell and a light appeared in the darkness high overhead. Choking on the air he breathed, Kurt abruptly grasped that hand. He felt the person beside him flinch. Drawing it down to his chest, Rachel had no choice but to follow. Sniffling he said, “I thought you were my mother.”

Choking on deep emotion, she felt a tear roll down her cheek. Inching ever closer her swelling belly gently pressed against the small of his back. Stroking Kurt’s hair, Rachel said in a soft, motherly voice, “Oh, my darling, all women are the mother to the world and we love all the same way.”

Pulling her arm tightly over his body, Kurt hugged it. The feeling of her heart beating against his back and the soft, warm breath on his neck soothed. The truth of her statement washed away the fear and he slowly rolled over onto his back. Rachel wordlessly she propped herself until she stared into red eyes. The woman who had borne Kurt had done the same thing. The distant memory pushed the darkness back.

“Oh, my Kurt,” Rachel whispered. Her breath smelt sweet.

Silence prevailed for the longest time and then Kurt barely whispered, “I’m broken…”

Hesitating, Rachel uttered, “Kurt?”

“How could…no…I…” He fell silent again.

Tugging at him, Rachel let the emotion flow.

“I’m…a cheap...” The man shuttered and started to cry again.

Once more Rachel comforted her oldest friend by pulling him close. The child within suddenly kicked and for a brief moment the sobbing man felt hope. Then it all crashed in on him once more. Rolling away, he let Rachel’s arm slid along his body. Heaving a huge sigh his body quivered as more tears came.

Rachel continued to hold him until he calmed down.

“I thought…” he sniffed. His head moved down toward his chest.

Rachel supportively pressed her arm down upon his body.

“Rachel…I found pills…I...” Kurt shuttered.

The woman next to him stiffened.

The depth of the breath he drew in pushed him back into Rachel. “I’m spoiled…weak…it’s all my…fault.”

The sobs came again and Rachel reacted in the only way she could. She squeezed closer placing a hand against his neck all the while fighting back her own tears.

“I’m nothing,” Kurt’s voice shook. “Rachel, how can Blaine still…love me…how…?”

Rachel placed her head on his back. Her body shook and she shed a tear.

Dark clouds boiled up as a wolf howled. The body shuttered and the knees came up to the chest. Slogging through knee deep mud, Kurt found himself reach for the hand offered to him. Familiar fingers passed through the fog within his mind grasping. Flesh touched flesh and then they turned into bony digits. A wraithlike face pushed out of the miasma.

The bed moved as if someone shifted. Comforting arms pulled way but Kurt did not care. Lost in the agony of his torments he did not even react when an arm encircled him again. Reaching across the side of his chest a hand drew him into a tight, strong, caring grip. The smell of the person behind him conjured up fond images. Pushing his back into the form behind him, Kurt sensed comfort leeching into his trembling body. He buried his head into it and began to cry again. Rather than being a thing of terror his sobs provided release.

Nestled against his husband’s back Blaine pressed his head into Kurt’s back kissing him ever so gently. Tears streaming from his eyes as he hugged the man with all the love he could spare. He heard most of it and the words made him shudder.

In two places Blaine held a man. An old man remembered his body moving with the sobs. The young man just pulled his lover into a tighter embrace. It felt reassuring but it also broke his heart. A dozen minutes ago upset children demanded attention. A sliver of dessert pacified the twins. It took a little more to calm Barbara.

“You better go to Kurt,” Blaine recalled Jesse saying. He looked as little shaken up.

Blaine nodded. “I want to make sure they’re alright.”

“I’ve got this.” Jesse glanced toward the living room Sam and Jiu had retreated into. Sitting on his lap, Barbara sucked on a cookie.

Katherine and Alexander each held onto one of Blaine’s legs. Uncertain, they looked up at their father crouching down between them. An arm wrapped around each of them, Blaine ignored the muffled voices resonating from the other room. He glanced at each of them and the softly said, “Daddy K has not been feeling well. Your mother is with him right now and I want to join her. Will the two of you be alright with that? Uncle Jesse will stay with you.”

The two children nodded and slowly released the father. Staring at Blaine, Jesse placed and hand around Kate. With the other he supported Barbara.

“Will another hug, help, daddy?” Alex asked. His eyes looked red.

“Two?” Kate injected.

“Not just yet, my dear ones.” Blaine glanced at Jesse who nodded. Kissing each of his kids, he slowly rose and went to the kitchen. Looking back he smiled at his children even as his heart sank.

He remembered hesitating at the bedroom door. Slightly ajar, he heard silent voices and frequent sobbing. Some of what he caught terrified him. The jaws dropped as he fought back quaking emotions. As difficult as this would be, he had to be strong. Quietly opening the door he tiptoed over to Rachel tapping her on the shoulder. He lay there with an arm wrapped around his distraught lover.

For the first few moments Blaine felt oddly out of place. The fact no one spoke worried him. What could he say? How to approach something he did not really comprehend? Hyperactive senses allowed him to hear the hear Rachel and Sam going at it.

“…don’t care Sam. Use your…” Rachel’s voice rose and fell. “…never again and not near my children…”

“…nothing to do…you’re over reacting as…” Sam’s climbed in volume and somewhere a child wailed.

Voices dropped but in emotion followed its own course. The door hardly muffled Rachel’s words. “…you know enough…look at her for god’s sack or are you to blond to see she’s as…”

Blaine tuned it out because he had to. Raised voices and the occasional high pitched yowl of a child tore at him. Thankfully, the tones feel away as if people moved away down the hall. Jesse’s voice said something and then a door heavily shut. Calmer voices prevailed and then silence. Holding Kurt close Blaine thought of his suffering husband and their children. What would be the impact on them? Barbara may recall raised voices. Alexander and Katherine posed another issue. He would have to deal with their questions later. For now he belonged to his husband.

A few moments later the bedroom door opened and Jesse poked his head in. Speaking in a low volume, he said, “Rachel and I are taking the twins home with us. You need to be alone with Kurt.”

Rolling his head to one side. Blaine stretched to look at Jesse. “Sam’s gone?”

“Yes and he is less than happy with Rachel,” Jesse made a face. “We’ll call in the morning to see how things are.”

Jesse then softly closed the door. Silence prevailed as while Blaine held his trembling husband. Ten or so minutes later, Blaine faintly heard the front door open and close.

Turning his full attention to his shivering husband, Blaine pulled the quilt over the two of them before settling in against his Kurt’s back. The instant his hand fell over Kurt’s chest fingers grabbed it and pulled him in close. Time ticked on but Kurt remained still hugging his arm as if it were the last thing on earth. Resting his head the other man’s shoulder Blaine began to quietly sing in that expressively emotional way only he could.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JpYZ0mDTzc4 - This is the scene of Kurt singing for Blaine. Just think of it in reverse and an octave lower.)

 _Share my life, take me for what I am_  
_Cause I'll never change all my colors for you_  
_Take my love, I'll never ask for too much_  
_Just all that you are and everything that you do_

 _I don't really need to look very much further_  
_I don't want to have to go where you don't follow_  
_I won't hold it back again, this passion inside_  
_Can't run from myself, there's nowhere to hide_

 _Don't make me close one more door_  
_I don't wanna hurt anymore_  
_Stay in my arms if you dare_  
_Or must I imagine you there?_

 _Don't walk away from me_  
_I have nothing, nothing, nothing_  
_If I don't have you, you, you, you, you_

 _You see through, right to the heart of me_  
_You break down my walls with the strength of your love, mhh, oh_  
_I never knew love like I've known it with you_  
_Will a memory survive, oh, one I can hold on to_

 _I don't really need to look very much further_  
_I don't want to have to go where you don't follow_  
_I won't hold it back again, this passion inside_  
_I can't run from myself, there's nowhere to hide_  
_Your love I'll remember forever_

 _Don't make me close one more door_  
_I don't wanna hurt anymore_  
_Stay in my arms if you dare_  
_Or must I imagine you there?_

 _Don't walk away from me_  
_I have nothing, nothing, nothing_

 _Don't make me close one more door_  
_I don't wanna hurt anymore_  
_Stay in my arms if you dare_  
_Or must I imagine you there?_

 _Don't walk away from me, no_  
_Don't walk away from me_  
_Don't you dare walk away from me_  
_I have nothing, nothing, nothing_  
_If I don't have you, you_  
_If I don't have you, oh, you_

Kurt responded to the lyrics by pressing into his husband. A hand came up to rest upon a familiar thigh where it a single finger made a small circle. No one spoke as the minutes ticked by and then Kurt suddenly sniffling and said in a weak tone, “I sang that for you…once.”

A smile pulled at Blaine’s lips. “It melted my heart.”

“But not your anger.”

“Honesty did that.”

“Honesty?”

“Yes, honesty.” Blaine drew in a short breath. “You once told me to be honest with you. Please, be honest with me.”

Kurt pulled his head away. He lay there for a moment and then pushed back so that he rested against his husband. “Blaine, how can you look at…me… and not see…I love you but…you deserved better…”

“Kurt, you don’t mean that?” Blaine pressed himself closer.

“I whored myself…to…say I love you.” Kurt began to cry again. “I’m…worthless…”

Had he willingly slept with Chandler? No, the sentiment Kurt revealed back then proved his innocence? Whored, what did that mean?

Trying to push such thoughts away, Blaine kissed Kurt gently on the back of the neck. The raw emotion spewing from his husband dug into his soul. Though it may be hard to hear it had to be. A simple word stung and his body physically responded. His husband gyrated with the sudden motion. The thoughts of his hospital recovery encroached within his thoughts. The bitterness he felt touched his heart once more but it found another venue for escape.

An old man knew more than his younger self. The strange duality allowed him to sense what his dear partner endured. It both shocked and amazed him. The old man doubted no more even though those thoughts would fester deep within for most of his life. The anger that tore at both of them drew them ever closer. Blaine suffered from the quilt of not realizing the depth of Kurt’s suffering while Kurt grieved lose and repulsion. Some nights he barely slept as he silently cried.

For a long time Kurt kept it all bottled up even though it festered like cancer. Within that mixing of spirit, old Blaine began to realize something felt different. His younger self let go of his own manifestations allowing Kurt to express himself. Release freed both of then, one from the pain and the other of stubborn reservations. The poor man sobbed on and off but in time he seemed to relax. Not willing to let him go, Blaine hung on so his dear husband knew that someone shared and loved. It made an old man proud and worried his younger counter part.

His own body racked by the failings of age, an old man glanced up at the man he loved. Time worked against him but in his youth it ticked on. He felt himself brooding and Kurt moving every so often. A young man adapted to match. Deep sentiment crept into youthful thoughts as he cuddled and reassured.

Finally, his younger self smiling. Buoyed by an odd, warming sensation, he softly said something the old man did not recall. “The life we share, while not perfect, represents everything to me Kurt. The ups and downs, the birth of the twins and the struggled we continued to face. That day on the stairs rings forever inside me. The anxiety you produced in me along with that gentle pull of longing. You make me feel complete.”

“Even…when…” Kurt muttered. His voice trembled and died away as his body slunk away from Blaine’s.

Gently hauling his lover closer so that his chest once more pressed into Kurt’s back, Blaine’s lips touched the back of his husband’s neck. “For better and worse. For love and chastisement, I demand you remain in my life as my lover, my partner and my equal.”

Moving his legs so one foot pressed in between Blaine’s, Kurt spoke at first in a murmur, “For weeks afterward…the idea of having coffee petrified me. There was no safety even behind a locked door. I wanted to hide in some murky corner but the darkness frightened me.”

Blaine squirmed because the arm he lay upon had fallen asleep. Unconsciously Kurt reacted by rolling ever so slightly. He leaned in against his husband on an angle releasing some of the pressure.

“Blaine…oh…my Blaine I’ve failed…you.” Suddenly he drew in a deep shaking breath and started to sniffle.

Pushing himself up, Blaine kissed Kurt on the cheek. “You have failed no one, my dearest.”

“You don’t…understand…” A long silence followed and then Kurt added, “Sex frightens me. Your wonderful body…I afraid…”

“Sh-sh-sh-sh, Kurt,” Blaine softly whispered even though his mind went ‘oh my god’.

“At times it feels as if we’re seventeen again…I want you so much and…then…”Kurt quivered and pushed his head into Blaine’s arm.

The term whore painfully flashed across Blaine’s heart. Trembling, he now realized the tenderness of their intimacy caused pain to the man he loved. Then, within that weird sense of joining, he understood the manner in which he played with Kurt helped him heal. A fist balled up as tears flowed from his eyes. Judiciously placing his chin on his husband’s shoulder, he whispered. “I will never do anything you do not what. If you don’t want to, tell me.”

“I…” Kurt pushed his head into the pillow, “want to but you…so…but…”

His own tears making the back of his husband’s shirt wet, Blaine softly ran his thumb along the side of the hand grasping his. “Kurt, I love you and will never hurt you.”

“But I…” Kurt caught himself.

Blaine held him.

“I feel the swirl of…I do not know…what. Everything is fuzzy. There is no…control…I want to yell but I can’t. That voice echoes in my head.” Kurt shivered in his silence.

Blaine pulled himself up onto one elbow. Looking down at his husband for a split second he had no idea what to do. By instinct or some other force, he leaned toward Kurt’s ear and murmured, “Think of the happiest day of our lives. Think of the Sue, Santana and Brittany and the way they made us see the light. Life that light, Kurt. No monster can take it from you.”

“I love you so…much.” Kurt drew Blaine close to him. He sobbed for a few. “You have to understand. During the worst of it the man…I adore…our…children became lost in the fog…I thought of…ending…”

The hairs on the back of Blaine’s neck stood on end. Within his chest he heart wildly pounded. The fear of losing the man he loved to HIV did not compare. Swallowing, he drew on what strength he could. Stroking Kurt’s hair, tears rolled down Blaine’s cheeks. “Kurt…I know and I’m sorry.”

“Blaine?”

“If you failed me, than I failed you. I should have noticed you wandering around on automatic. I should have seen the fear in your eyes. I should have felt your hesitation.”

“Oh, Blaine, no, you are not that…monster. You are my knight...”

“But?”

“That monster stalks me on street corners and even in the sanctity of my own bed. Worst of all I barely remember any of it. Some macabre sense of loss forced me to sit through the entire trial. It felt so lonely”

Finding it hard not to cry himself, Blaine hugged his husband tightly. “You were never alone, my dear one.”

“You, Rachel and Jesse stood with me through it all.” Kurt rolled over so he faced his husband. Red, teary eyes stared into the dim light. “Blaine…how…how…can you…”

The only way he could answer involved heavily pressing his lips to his husband’s. The bodies wrapped into one another and then Kurt buried his face into Blaine’s chest. Together they shed simple, healing tears. An old man wiped his away and smiled. Slowly Kurt rolled over onto his back. Without hesitation, Blaine rested his head on his husband’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

Stroking Kurt’s smooth cheek Blaine wiped the tears away. “My sweet, you don’t have to fear him anymore.”

“But I have to fear myself. He’s with me every minute of the day.” Kurt traced Blaine’s lips with a finger.

“I’m with you every minute of the day in here.” Blaine placed his hand on Kurt’s chest. The heart beat rapidly though slower than before.

“Yes, you are.”

“And I am here to hold you every night.”

“Your touch makes me feel so safe. But…”

“Not buts, Kurt…I love you.”

“He’s in my head.”

“So am I. When you feel him think of me. Think of our wedding and our sweet babies. Remember that I will always love and protect you.”

“Like Karofsky?”

“Like Karofsky.”

Kurt trembled.

Taking Kurt’s hand in his so their fingers messed together, Blaine kissed each digit. “We may be parted but my hand is always there.”

“But you’re going to London..,” Kurt pushed his head into Blaine’s chest, “and I will be all…alone.

Holding his lover closer, Blaine said, “I won’t go.”

“You have to and I can’t.” Kurt pulled in his lip.

“Kurt, don’t worry about that now. Just remember that I love you. You’re my everything Kurt Anderson-Hummel. Life is not worth living without you.”

The two lay there for a long while and then Blaine realized Kurt slept. Relieved, he let out a soft sigh and then began to cry for himself. All the emotions he suppressed released themselves.


	34. A Surprise

Doctor Donaldson blocked off half a day for an emergency intervention. Raw uneven emotion flowed between the two men as the doctor coxed, listened and took notes. The problems Kurt faced involved the fact he had been unavoidably intoxicated. She explained that new studies revealed drugs that supressed the memory did not stop the brain from recording the events. Over time a very simple thing might cause the subconscious to dredge something up. In great detail she explained what happened the other night had nothing to do with who or where but rather what. That what could be anything but the important thing, from her perspective, revolved about the fact something surfaced.

Speaking about the things he felt did not come easily for Kurt. Watching his husband made it appear so simple but when he wanted to speak he choked up. Slowly the lock on the locks holding his heart tumbled and simple phrases found themselves replaced by powerful emotions. Holding Blaine’s hand Kurt babbled on and one about things his husband knew little of. Some of it seemed unimportant, other tidbits shocked or aroused hidden passions. Then he suddenly stopped. Sitting there for the longest time Kurt found it difficult to look at anyone. Finally he turned to his husband and told him in blunt detail how he felt when they made love.

Blaine broke. The words whore crossed his lips several times as he struggled with overlapping sentiments. The thought Kurt would think having sex with him equated to prostitution more than disturbed him. One moment he raged and then adoring eyes gazed at his husband as if nothing had happened. Resentment blossomed and then sputtered into fits of such deep concern even the doctor’s chin quivered. At some point she had to take the reins. First came a peaceful timeout to reflect and then she spoke in measured expressions. It took a while for Blaine to understand what the doctor tried to explain and when he did he just sat there feeling utterly uncompassionate. He had never considered the fact some people who had suffered from a sexual assault often pulled back from intimacy. Heart filled words of apology followed. The last gates flung open and the two men sobbed, hugged and made promises to one another.

Admitting to overemotional swings produced another unexpected, but short lived, fit of anger. This time Blaine caught himself and after a whispered chat with Kurt he realized how foolish he felt. The doctor carefully told both of them how the loved ones of a rape victim suffered just as much. The failure to protect the other and the sometimes overpowering need to comfort led to their own feelings of hopelessness. The whole discussion made Blaine understand he could not sucker himself into believing he would be okay.

After setting up a return visit, the two went for a slow, quiet walk through Battery Park. People teamed about them but neither seemed to care. Clinking to his Kurt soothed Blaine and even caused his husband to smile once or twice.

Long moments passed. Both found it uncomfortable to speak about their upheavals, for the first time three days they thought of different things. The unobtrusive affair helped sooth frayed nerves and bring forgiveness for things said. Stopping for coffee they sat staring out at the river holding each other’s hands. Soft carcasses and being in one another’s presence brought rewarding calm.

An involuntary shudder Blaine’s body and he stopped. Inclined against the wall facing an empty bedroom he felt suddenly overwhelmed again. Returning home had been the bright moment of the day but somehow stepping into the scene of the crime mad him angry again. Finding it hard to control himself he thanked his luck Kurt headed to the kitchen complaining about a growling stomach.

Bare muscles glistened in the light shining of the pictures. His arms come up as he arched his shoulder’s back. Drawing his arm down to the across his torso so the back stretched, he felt old. Days of stress highlighted the torments of the past year and half haunted him in very different ways now. Long forgotten bitterness of catching Kurt and that man surged along with the guilt of how he treated the man he loved afterward. Plummeting into a pot containing a huge assortment of highly complex emotions nerves frayed. Body and mind demanded a moment of calm.

Rolling his head up from the left and around to there right, the neck snapped. Suddenly he frowned knowing he could not keep going this way. He loved the man but he had to consider the twins. The jaw tightened as he felt the trap closing in on him. A hand went down to his pocket holding a folded prescription for tranquilisers.

“Blaine, you’re awfully quiet.” Kurt called from the kitchen.

Shocked, Blaine blinked as a hand slapped against his chest. The heart fluttered as a shot of pain rolled over he vulnerable muscles. Breathing rapidly he hesitantly responded, “Just thinking.”

The seconds ticked on before Kurt replied, “You alright?”

“Just tired, honey.” Blaine glanced at his watch. An eyebrow went up and his heart started to pound. Swearing under his breath he had forgotten. “I’m going to take a long hot shower,”

“Give me a couple and I will be right there.”

“You do not need to do that.”

“Blaine, we do not have to do THAT. Washing your back has certain pleasures. Beside I want you close.”

“You’re milking this.”

“Now there’s an idea.”

Blaine suddenly let out a long sigh. A single, awful words echoed in his head. This would be far harder than he thought.

Walking into the bedroom he dropped his shirt on the chair of Kurt’s makeup stand. The marble topped metal table had been shipped from Lima after their wedding followed them around like some trophy. Pausing, he ran a finger over it smooth surface. Doctor Donaldson counselled both of them not blame each other about the little things that became lost in the blur of daily life. So many small signs had gone unnoticed.

Pulling his zipper down, Blaine unbuttoned his pants. At the same moment the phone in his pocket vibrated. Hauling out of the loose, flexible pocket he flipped it over so he could read. Fear flashed across his face and for a moment he wondered if he should have said no. Swallowing a dry throat, he placed the phone down. Too late, he sat and hauled the pant legs over his feet followed by his socks. Purposely going slow he listened for a certain sound.

“You want something to drink, Blaine?” Kurt called from the kitchen. His voice sounded faint.

“No thank you.” Blaine felt heavy. “Just stripping all the makeup off.”

“You? Makeup?”

“You didn’t see me those morning while you played with yourself in the shower. Creams for days.”

“Yeah, right, funny….hah…hah.”

“I’m not getting any younger. God’s the bags under my eyes.”

“I happen to love your bags, all of them.”

“Kurt?”

“You need me to scrub your bags.”

“Your fingers are probably covered in something sticky.”

“Washing them off could be fun.”

Then it happened, someone knocked on the door.

“Who could that be?” Kurt sounded put out and a bit closer.

Heart rate raising, Blaine played innocent. “How would I know?”

“Not the neighbours again about the damned paint in the halls.”

“If it is, turn them away.”

“Yeah, why don’t you do it?”

“Kurt, I’m naked.”

“Bugger.”

“Kurt, just answer the door.” Blaine yelled back from the bathroom. The tight on suite consisted of an average sized shower stall, a toilet and a sink pedestal. Turning the water on, he dropped his underwear and tossed them out onto the bedroom floor. Kurt would expect to see them.

“Blaine?” Kurt moaned. It sounded like he stood in the entrance of the inner sanctum.

Again, the faint sound of knocking touched Blaine’s ears followed by Kurt muttering to himself as he stomped along the hardwood floor.

Wearing only his skin, Blaine softly padded over to the bedroom door so he could hear. Someone knocked for a third time. The door opened his husband’s high pitched voice rose in surprise. Satisfied, Blaine ran to the shower and a moment of peace immersed in hot water.

Throwing himself into his father, Kurt wrapped Burt up in his arms. The older man retaliated with a firm hug. The turmoil of the morning washed away like the foam on the beach. The larger man represented a different kind of safety his husband could never provide. Ever since his mother’s death his dad had been there sharing in the trials of his son. Not always easy, they had good laughs, serious talks and a more than a few disagreements.

Pulling away with a bright smile on his face, Kurt stepped back. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I see my son from time to time,” Burt cheerfully smiled. Casually dressed he fondly gazed at his son.

“You should have phoned?”

“And ruin the fun?”

“But…”

Burt held up a set of keys. “Remember, you sent me a set.”

Kurt shook his head shifting the cobwebs.

“How about you let me in?” his father pleaded giving his son an odd look. He stooped down and picked up his night bag.

Kurt clumsily backed up. “Oh, right, yes, dad, come in. You planning on staying.”

“You going to kick your old man out already?”

Kurt looked shocked, “No…no.”

Smiling Burt laid a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I wanted to see what you’ve done to the place my hard earned money helped you buy?”

“It’s comfortable.” Kurt stepped back from the door. The shaking he endured almost subsided.

“For that kind of cash, it should be more than comfortable, my boy,” Burt took his overcoat off and handed it and the bag to his son. He wore a dark blue suit with an American flag on the right lapel.

Hanging the coat up, Kurt said, “Dad, it’s so good to see you.”

“And you.” Burt looked about. “I could us a coffee. It was a hellish flight from Washington. I had to sit beside the boorish representative from New England.”

“How’s Carole?”

“She’s good and sends her love. Her pet project has her all tied up.”

“She’s still on that?”

“Yup, dog walker extraordinaire.”

Kurt snickered. “Let me show you around. We still have some things to do and get but we’re happy.”

Proudly, showing off his first, real home, Kurt took him into the living room. Burt commented, “It’s a little sparse. Are you two going minimal? The paintings are different.”

“You like them?” Kurt indicated one of them with a wide sweep of the arm.

“Well, sort of, I guess. To be honest I like something a little more traditional.” Burt walked over to the piano and stared at the piles of paper.

Protectively stepping forward, Kurt said, “His movie score.”

Burt nodded as he glanced at the boxed books and discs. “Needs a few things.”

“I have all sorts of plans.”

“What about Blaine’s plans?”

“He’ll see it my way.”

“Well he got a piano, so I guess that will appease him. Where is he by the way?”

“In the shower.”

Burt’s eyebrows went up as they circled into the dining room. “Needs a couple of nice china cabinets.”

“You offering dad?” Kurt ran his hand across the back of a chair.

Giving his son a look Burt shook his head. “Maybe for your twenty fifth wedding anniversary.”

“You’ll have to buy one for Santana and Brittany as well.”

“No, I don’t. So where’s that coffee.” The passed into the kitchen. “Novel design.”

Going to the counter, Kurt opened a drawer and pulled out a prepackaged coffee shot. Putting it in the machine he slammed a mug under the nozzle and pressed the button. “It came this way and I kind of like it. It’s quirky like me.”

“You got that right.” Burt leaned against the wine cabinet. “It would have been great to have one of those in the shop. Damned thing never worked right.”

“Dad, I showed you how many times…” Kurt went suddenly quiet as his brow furrowed. “You haven’t asked about the twins? This isn’t a surprise trip is it?”

Letting out a sigh, Burt said, “No.”

“Fuck! Blaine, called you?” Kurt sounded more than a little upset.

‘Kurt?” Burt gave him that look.

Biting his upper lip, his son rolled his eyes.

“Okay, let’s just get right down to it,” Burt crossed his arms. “Yes, Blaine called me. He’s more than just a little concerned and so am I?”

“Dad?” Kurt stared at his father. He face grew harder.

“Don’t give me that. You’re not a kid anymore and we are not having a conversation about sex.” Burt gave his son a look Kurt would know very well. “We’re talking about my son who has been through…well…stuff I have trouble fathoming.”

Making a face Kurt said, “I’m fine, dad.”

“I’m not some person sitting in an audience watching a play. I still know you better than your husband,” Burt stood up straight. “I have only one child and I worry about him. You might have just passed the big three O but you’re still my little boy.”

Kurt pushed off from the counter and threw himself at his father. Pressing his head into his father’s thick torso he moaned, “Oh, dad…I am not alright.”

“And that’s why I’m here.” Burt caressed his son’s back.

Walking into the kitchen as the father and son moment, Blaine froze. Wild, frizzy hair bloomed up from his head like freshly sheered sheep’s wool. Crossing his arms he rested a shoulder on the door frame and drew in a deep breath. Seeing Burt relieved all sort of tension giving him hope there would be help.

Looking over his son’s shoulder Burt’s eyes said a warm hello in the form of a simple wink.

Listening to the gurgling coffee maker, Blaine waited. When it became evident his husband prepared to withdraw, he said, “You take sugar but no cream, right Burt?”

Jumping away from his father Kurt’s head snapping about he gave his lover an annoyed glare. “Jesus!”

“Kurt,” Burt chastised then he turned to Blaine. “He’s always been good at that discovering secrets. After all he figured out your little game about proposing.”

“Oh?” Blaine’s eyebrows went up and then he shrugged. “Yes, he’s not stupid, Burt. After all he’s your son. Why don’t the two of you go out in to the living room and I’ll being in the coffee.”

Giving his husband a sideways look, Kurt suddenly shook his head. “You f…little bugger.”

“I enjoy buggering you.” Blaine winked at his husband. The f got washed away into angst of the day.

“Yeah, I don’t think I need to know the rest.” Burt shook his head.

“Kurt, go talk to your dad.” Blaine quickly kissed his husband while he could.

“Bloody hell, Blaine…” Looking suddenly lost, Kurt pulled in his lip and took Blaine’s hands. “You’re a dear man but I really…”

Burt caught the look on Blaine’s face and drew the two boys into a hug by swapping his arms about their shoulders. Blaine smiled while Kurt’s face produced one of that ‘I don’t know what to think’ grins.

 

Laying his head against his son, Burt said, “Kurt, it was my idea to come. Blaine only found out when I texted after landing. If you are going to be angry with someone, don’t take it out on him.”

“Dad?” Kurt objected. His chest tightened. He pulled away breaking the hug up.

Giving his son the famous father look, Burt said, “Are we going to play games?”

Shaking his head, Kurt looked down. His stomach rolled. “No.”

Patting his son on the shoulder, Burt asked, “Now what about that coffee?”

“Right away, oh great father-in-law,” Blaine mused as he purposely bowed. The levity boosted flagging spirits relieving some of the uncertainty of the day.

Hesitating for a moment Kurt leaned in as if he went to kiss his husband. Playfully turning his face this way and that he struck with surprise. Lips smacked and then he seductively whispering, “Oh, I love you, Blaine.”

The manner in which his partner presented himself sent a pleasant shiver up Blaine’s back. Oh, how he needed that. Slanting into his husband with a soft, warm smile, Blaine laid a hand on his face. “I love you too.”

Clearing his throat, Burt awkwardly commented, “Get a room.”

Kurt’s face flashed red and the turned to his father who started to laugh.

“Come along dad. We’ve been banished from the kitchen.” Kurt grabbed Burt’s arm and pushed him into the dining room. He looked back quickly, “Oh, darling, don’t forget some cookies.”

“Whatever my master decrees.” Blaine winked. When his husband turned he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the necessity but exasperating platitudes. A hand closed in a fist.

“You two are so good to one another,” Burt said to his son as the skipped ahead.

“I really do love him dad but at times he can be so…bloody aggravating,” Kurt whispered as he glanced back over his shoulder. The heart ached the moment the words left his lips.

Stroking his son’s shoulder, Burt softly replies, “If those we loved didn’t irritate us from time to time then I would be worried.”

“Did mom bother you?”

“We argued like cats and dogs sometimes.”

“I miss her.”

“So do I.”

Kurt stopped suddenly. His lips trembled. “That night I thought she was with me.”

Pulling up short, Burt looked to his son. Sorrow filled his face.

“Sorry, Dad,” Kurt sat I the middle of the couch and glanced longingly back to the kitchen. “I’ll tell you everything but let’s wait for Blaine.”

“I have never heard him to be so upset.” Burt commented as he sat in one of the high backed chairs.

“I scared him. I scared myself.”

“It frightened me. We didn’t get into details but the way he struggled told me enough.”

“I flipped out dad. Doctor Donaldson cleared her calendar this morning for us.”

“Kurt?”

The two sat there surrounded by awkward silence for a few long moments. Burt regard his son and Kurt just sat there with an apprehensive look on his face. Finally he leaning closer placing a hand on his father’s. “Dad, I will not lie to you. It wasn’t pleasant. My poor husband, god’s what he thought?”

“You terrified me, my love.” Blaine barely held it together as he placed as tray on the low table in front of the couch. “Burt, there’s no way to say this easily.”

“Blaine please, let me?” Kurt pleaded. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek.

“You sure?” Blaine gave his husband a quick apologetic look. He settled at the end of the couch close to Burt and opposite the man he loved.

Drawing a deep breath, Kurt closed his eyes. He sat there for a few seconds and then turned his head so he glanced at Blaine. “I sorry if I frightened you, but…”

Stomach turning, Blaine heavily inhaled. Even though he had just showered, the back of his shirt stuck to his skin. Hesitantly he glanced away shutting his eyes. Terror smashed into an already pounding heart and for a second he felt faint. Hauling one foot up onto the couch so that the knee pressed against the cushion, he pulling Kurt onto him. His chest heaved when Kurt’s back came to rest on him. Instinctively he wrapped his arms protectively about the other.

“You alright, Blaine?” Burt leaned closer.

“It’s been a…stressful day.” Blaine lied. Blood rushing to his face and sweat beaded on his neck and down his back.

“Dad I found some pills but…” Kurt blurt out the words before he could change his mind. He shivered in his husband’s arms.

From behind, Blaine softly kissed the side of Kurt’s neck but Burt would not have been able to miss the look on his face. Thick brows twisted as he heavily swallowed. Hearing those words again pushed the dagger further into his heart. Unable to maintain the front, he held his husband firmly and openly cried. Fingers tightened about his arms tightly.

“Blaine?” Burt laid a hand on his son-in-law’s shoulder. Twice now he faced the issue of his son’s stability. In this instance he could not exactly force him to join the football team but, in hind sight, Glee saved his life. Finding Blaine set an uneasy but hopeful and loving path. All of it flashed across his face like words on a page.

Breathing deeply, the former Warbler closed his eyes and held his husband in silence. Finding it impossible to express what he felt, he turned his head and laid an ear against Kurt’s spine. Life without Kurt remained unthinkable but listening to the pounding of his lover’s heart told him a sweet story.

“Dad, Blaine, I couldn’t.” Kurt’s face paled. He tried to sit up but his love would not let him go. Leaning back his chest felt heavy. Tearfully he rolled his head in an attempt see his husband. “When I thought of this dear, dear man and our children…I couldn’t.”

Disturbed, teary eyed, Burt quietly asked, “Did you seek help at that time?”

“I shut down.”

“Blaine?”

Unable to find the words, Blaine closed his eyes as his head slid down Kurt’s shoulder.

“He didn’t know until…” Kurt choked on his words as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Grief washed across Burt’s face. Remaining silent for a long moment he eventually asked, “And the other night.”

“I felt great in the beginning. I looked forward to it. Sam was coming over and surprised us with a new girlfriend. Everything went fine until I…freaked.”

Blaine tensed up and his sniffed back emotion.

Embracing is partner’s hand, Kurt said, “It wasn’t her?”

“What do you mean?” Burt questioned. His brow constricted.

“Sam’s girlfriend spooked me. I stooped down to pick up a cork and when I came up she was there inches from my face…” Kurt paused and closed his eyes. He pressed his fingers tightly into his husband’s. “In that moment he stood there.”

“Chandler?” Burt leaned forward and picked a mug of coffee. He stared at his son pressed against Blaine.

“Yes…how, do I...”Kurt hesitated.

“Slowly and with thought,” Blaine said just loud enough for Burt to hear. His voice quivered.

Undecided, Kurt said nothing for a few seconds. “Okay, this sounds weird but her eyes changed and then I felt suddenly heavy and the room tilted.”

Burt kept his eyes on his son as the coffee cup slid over his lips. Slowly the mug drooped. “Did she say or do anything?”

“She snorted cocaine in the bathroom.” Blaine’s sounded angry.

Burt just sat there as his face turned sour. “Where were the children?”

Both men’s heads awkwardly came up. Blaine answered, “They were with Jesse in their room playing.”

“Do they know?” Concern echoed in Burt’s voice

Blaine responded, “Sort of, but we haven’t talked to them yet.”

“I’m not ready yet, dad.” Kurt admitted. “This is hard…enough.”

“I can see that.” Burt let out a sigh sipped from the mug he held and then wiped away a tear.

“Dad…having you here is…” Kurt stopped himself as tears filled his eye. Gazing at his father, Kurt sighed. The wet spot of his shirt pressed into the man behind him.

Lifting his coffee again, Burt swallowed a large draft. Glancing at his son he rocked his head from side to side “If I’m hearing this right, she just happened to be a little too close and it…set you off.”

“Really, she did nothing?”

“Really?”

“Okay, she played footsy with me under the table?”

“I see. Did you do anything to encourage her?”

“Burt?” Blaine loudly objected. He pushed forward but Kurt’s weight against him held him fast. His abdomen gradually flipped forcing him to choke back the bile rising in his throat.

Burt’s felt unexpectedly irresponsible. “Sorry, Blaine, I’m being clinical. It’s a nasty trait I picked up in Washington.”

Blaine nodded but the tone of his skin revealed his discomfort. A bead of moisture ran down his face. Drawing in a deep breath he could scream.

“I think she knocked the cork off the counter on purpose.” Kurt made sure he pressed his fingers tighter with his husband’s. “She had nothing to do with it.”

“But the drugs?” Blaine’s heart rate rose.

“While I don’t approve, I agree with my son. She had nothing to do with it other than playing silly games.”

“But those games…?” Blaine voice cracked. Tired and not prepared for another few hours of cross examination he found it hard to control his mixed emotions. He head fell back on the couch. Horrible thoughts echoed through his mind forcing his blood pressure up. He drew in a long, shaky breath.

Recognizing his husband’s increasing anxiety, Kurt inclined his head. “Blaine, perhaps her flirting triggered it but I don’t really know. All I know for certain is my mind shifted and it all just tumbled in…upon me. The worst of it is not…reliving…it…but the fear.”

Blaine’s head came up. He could feel his husband’s emotions rolling like a log on a rough river. Placing his head against the back of one of his arms, Blaine stretched to look up at his adorable husband. The man he loved he sensed the communal release of sentiment. The fact their breathing and sobs synchronised told him how much they had grown together.

Pulling his lips together, Burt watched the two men collect themselves. His eyes strayed around the room as the moments passed at an agonizing slow pace.

Caressing Blaine’s arm, Kurt finally broke the awkwardness. “Dad, Doctor Donaldson wants me to undergo hypnotherapy. She thinks Jiu released something the…drugs obscured. What I felt…was not the same as what I went through during the…trial. She thinks it might bring it all out.”

“I am not certain of that. It did work last time.” Blaine’s head came up. Teary eyes stared at Burt.

Slowly Burt considered his emotions as his face contorted.

“Dad I have no illusion this will be hard to face.” Kurt’s voice trailed off for a moment as the then arched his presses his hand down onto Blaine’s thigh. “I am anxious but more so for Blaine. He’s proven to me how much he cares and loves me but…this may…oh…gods…I am just so lucky to have a wonderful man to hold my hand…”

“And all of you,” Blaine butt in.

“Yes, all of me,” Kurt smiled.

“Blaine?” Burt pulled his lower lip in. He noticed his son-in-law’s eye twitching.

“Understand me, Burt,” Blaine said with full conviction, “I would never be able to forgive myself if I didn’t stand by your son. When we see the doctor tomorrow I’ll mention my fears surrounding what she’s suggested. But, Kurt’s wellbeing is my upmost concern. He has the final say and I will be with him.”

“And I will be there with both of you.” Burt did not look all that happy.

“Dad?” Kurt raised a hand as if he wanted to stand but Blaine held fast.

Ignoring the objection, Burt nodded his head and leaned forward. “Blaine what do you need?”

A shocked look arched across Blaine’s face.

Looking crossed, Kurt stared at his father. “You’re avoiding the issue.”

“Yes I am because it’s not up for debate.” Burt looked determined. “Blaine is going to need support or are you dumping all this on Rachel who I suspect will have her hands full with three kids and Jesse.”

Puffing himself up Kurt, objected, “Dad, this…”

“It’s perfectly fair, Kurt. Poor Blaine looks like he’s going to have a heart attack.” Burt angrily stated. “Let’s not argue about this. You might be the victim in this but he’s suffering as well.”

“Okay dad, I get it” Kurt trembled as he gave in. It came to him like a slap on the face. Heaving a large breath the turned ever so slightly so he could see his husband in the corner of his eye.

“It’s alright, Kurt,” Blaine whispered.

Shaking his head, Kurt stated, “No, it’s not. It should be us not me.”

“Well that’s a first,” Burt mused.

The truth stung. Looking down Kurt angrily retorted, “Yes, dad, I’m a primidone but I’m nothing like Rachel?”

“I would think Blaine may have a few words in rebuttal?” Burt glanced at the man his son lay against.

Smartly Blaine keep his opinion to himself.

The congressman drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry but denial will solve nothing. Blaine, have you told your mother?”

The young man gagged on the intake of air. Coughing the spike drove a little deeper. The fear of revealing his deepest emotions of his mother swirled like water going down the drain. Sheepishly he glanced away and then quietly said, “No sir.”

Uncomfortable, Burt placed a hand on Blaine’s bicep. “Pam and Cooper deserve to know.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Blaine openly shuttered.

“Good,” Burt switched to his son as he sat back. “Now, what about safety?”

Kurt glanced at Blaine behind him. His pulse vibrated in his wrists. “He’d been all over the old place.”

“But not here?” Burt turned the mug in his palm around in a circle by the handled.

Kurt nodded. “Maybe it is all in my head. Maybe it was myself pulling…”

“You do not need to?” Blaine interrupted glaring at his father-in-law. He did not like being forced.

Pushing his head into his lover, Kurt softly replied, “Yes I do. We talked about honesty. I need to be honest. Dad, I’m terrified of being alone…”

Burt started to say something but Kurt put his hand up. When it fell two hands cradled those belonging to his beloved husband. “I have no idea…Doctor Donaldson says it will take some time and sessions to overcome it.”

Suddenly looking at Blaine, Burt raised his finger as if to point and then let it fall. In a compassionate tone he asked, “You’re going to London soon?”

“Yes, in three weeks,” Blaine sounded sad.

“And you, Kurt?” Burt bluntly asked.

The tone of Kurt’s skin faded. “My Fair Fellow is getting ready for a two year run. I have to be here. We are in the final stages and preparing heavy rehearsal when Blaine…”

No one spoke. Two husband’s gazed at the older man as he considered things. Wiggling his nose, Burt suggested, “I can’t get away from Washington but Carole might enjoyed walking the twins in the park. Maybe, Pat would like to visit or Cooper?”

“Dad?” Kurt blurt out.

Blaine blinked and swallowed. His eyes thankfully beamed at his father-in-law.

Sitting forward Burt glanced at the two men. His head titled thoughtfully to one side. “We’re a family and family helps one another. So this is what we are going to do. First, go shower, again, and put decent suits on. Two, I’m taking the two of you out for a nice quiet dinner. Three, we will not talk about this for the rest of the evening. Four, I want to see my grandchildren.”


	35. London Part 1

November 4, 2025 - London Time

KAH 3:04 PM: Hey Blaine, hope first day in London is being good to you. ♥♥♥

BAH 3:17 PM: It’s been a long day. Hate overnight flights. Got in at 10. It took forever to get through customs and find my luggage. Thank god the driver was there.

BAH 3:18 PM: Judith says hello. I had lunch with her.

BAH 3:18 PM: I’m having dinner with Ang tonight.

BAH 3:19 PM: Recording begins tomorrow.

KAH 3:26 PM: Sorry, Carole says hello. We’re taking the kids to the park.

BAH 3:27 PM: How are you doing?

KAH 3:28 PM: I miss you.

BAH 3:29 PM: I miss you too. I slept on the plane…sort of.

KAH 3:30 PM: I barely slept.

KAH 3:31 PM: Your side of the bed feels so empty.

BAH 3:33 PM: I should have stayed.

KAH 3:36 PM: No, Blaine!

BAH 3:30 PM: Kurt?

KAH 3:31 PM: I have my arm pillow. He’s not as warm as you but he makes me feel loved.

BAH 3:33 PM: I feel terrible.

KAH 3:34 PM: You’re wonderful and I need to do this.

BAH 3:35 PM: The hotel is nice, right across from Hyde Park but I’m…I don’t know…miserable.

KAH 3:36 PM: Don’t Blaine. I’m a little freaked but Carole’s here.

BAH 3:36 PM: Kurt…thank you for being honest. Just remember I love you.

KAH 3:36 PM: I love you too Blaine, more than you can imagine.

KAH 3:37 PM: Carole’s calling me. Time to go.

BAH 3:38 PM: Kisses, my love.

KAH 3:39 PM: Kisses right back at you. Will text when I get back. Love you.

 

***

 

November 5, 2025 - London Time

BAH 6:11 AM: Didn’t really sleep. The big soft bed is missing something.

BAH 6:57 AM: Breakfast alone in my room. Miss you.

BAH 7:17 AM: I thought New York was busy…wow…London rush hour, what a mess.

BAH 7:26 AM: Passed Buckingham Palace. Would make a nice summer retreat…LOLO

BAH 7:32 AM: I know you’re still asleep. Dreamt of you.

BAH 7:59 AM: My god, the Royal Festival Hall. This place is magnificent. Wish you were here. Sending pics.

BAH 8:33 AM: What a nut house. The orchestra is arriving. People all over the place setting up recording stuff.

BAH 8:48 AM: Ang wants to talk to me. I guess we’re getting started. I wish you were here. I’m scared.

KAH 1:37 PM: Hold in there love.

KAH 1:38 PM: I know you. When it gets going you will be so excited you will forget about me.

BAH 1:51 PM: Never. ♥♥♥

KAH 1:51 PM: How goes?

BAH 1:52 PM: Busy. Set up. Been practicing with the associate conductor.

KAH 1:53 PM: Wow the London Philharmonic. A dream come true. Any of them cute?

BAH 1:54 PM: Kurt?

KAH 1:56 PM: Come off it, Blaine, live a little.

BAH 1:59 PM: Okay…the kettle drummer is a dreamboat.

BAH 1:59 PM: He sort of looks like someone I love.

KAH 2:01 PM: See you’ll be fine.

BAH 2:02 PM: I’d rather have the adorable original. I’m having dinner with Judith and some of her friends tonight.

KAH 2:04 PM: Say hello to her, my favourite conductor with a big stick.

BAH 2:05 PM: You can drum my kettle any time…

BAH 2:07 PM: Time to go. They want to do another sound check. Be strong, my love. I miss you. ♥♥♥

BAH 2:08 PM: You try and have some fun. Miss you too. ♥♥♥

 

***

 

November 6, 2025 - London Time

BAH 2:57 PM: Kurt…you make me blush. ☺☺☺

KAH 2:57 PM: You naked?

BAH 2:58: Kurt?

KAH 2:58 PM: I am. You want another picture.

BAH 2:58 PM: Oh my. ☺☺☺

KAH 2:59 PM: I’m thinking of you.

BAH 2:59 PM: How?

KAH 3:00 PM: You’re doing what you did down by the river in high school.

BAH 3:01 PM: Oh my…are you?

KAH 3:02 PM: Yes.

BAH 3:03 PM: Damn. Have to go, they got the projector fixed.

BAH 3:04 PM: You’ve made my day and my pants stretch. Dear, dear man…how I love you…♥♥♥

KAH 3:06 PM: I love you too my sweet Warbler. ♥♥♥

 

***

 

November 7, 2025 - London Time

BAH 10:09 AM: Hey lover boy…how’s tricks?”

BAH 10:11 AM: You there, Kurt?

BAH 10:14 AM: I guess you’re busy. Say hello to him?

KAH 12:43 PM: Ha, ha, Alexander says hi.

KAH 12:46 AM: Went to see Julia. Alex got in a fight.

KAH 12:47AM: Nothing too bad.

BAH 3:22 PM: He alright? Say hi back to both of my darlings.

KAH 4:06 PM: He got his dignity scratched.

BAH 11:17 PM: Had dinner with Ang and the editors.

KAH 11:18 PM: Hey, this will be short. We’re going to take the children for a walk and then ice cream.

BAH 11:19 PM: Hug them for me.

KAH 11:20 PM: Will do. You sleeping better?

BAH 11:23 PM: A bit. I wish I brought your arm pillow.

KAH 11:24 PM: He’s keeps me warm at night.

BAH 11:25 PM: Be gentle with the pillow. He misses you. ♥♥♥

KAH 11:27 PM: I would rather have your warm arms around me. Take care my love. ♥♥♥

 

***

 

November 8, 2025 - London Time

KAH 9:22 AM: Hey, Blaine. I couldn’t sleep. Thought I would bug you for a few.

KAH 9:31 AM: The book I’m reading is soooooooooo boring.

KAH 9:35 AM: Blah, blah, blah, blah.

KAH 10:54 AM: Yeah, right. Bored. I think I will call Rachel and bug her.

KAH 11:09 AM: I woke her and now the baby is kicking up a storm. I’m so dead.

KAH 12:07 PM: Your mom arrives about three.

KAH 12:08 AM: Burt is coming in. He’s taking us for dinner and then a show. Rachel and Jesse are joining us.

KAH 12:11 PM: Kate wants to know if you are bringing Prince George back for her. What a cutie but too old for her.

KAH 12:14 PM: Alex wants you to bring home a taxi? Are you sure he’s our son? One of the palace guards I can understand.

KAH 1:41 PM: Took a nap. I’ve found lying on yours side make it easier. Sarah says I am doing much better. I told her I miss you terribly and in her quirky way the doc shrugged and said, “That happens when you’re in love.” I guess it’s true then.

KAH 1:52 AM: Guess you’re busy. Saturday in London. Off at some museum or just haven’t gotten home from pubbing yet. Text when you think of me. Miss you….kisses from all of us colonials.

BAH 7:02 PM: No late night ticking for me. Gave that up in high school when I realized I loved some goof ball kid with a squeaky voice.

BAH 7:04 PM: Driving back from the hall. Real long day and everything seemed to go wrong. Had to rewrite an entire section because the editors decided it was all wrong in the afternoon when they loved it in the morning.

BAH 7:05 PM: I love it though.

BAH 7:08 PM: Will be arriving at the hotel soon. Got time for a shower and then Judith is taking me to a charity event at the royal opera. It’s rumoured Kate, William and Ann will be there.

BAH 7:10 PM: Thought of you lots today. Being away from you is hell but good at the same time. We’re so much a couple. I find myself thinking of you walking with me through the Hyde Park. Holding hands in the rain under the lights. It’s across the street.

BAH 7:11 PM: Thought the young bellhop would fill in for you.

BAH 7:12 PM: Ha, ha, not.

BAH 7:14 PM: I was sitting alone at lunch today remembering what I felt after…well…when we split up when you first went to New York.

BAH 7:15 PM: This sort of feels like it now. I missed you so much then and it hasn’t changed.

BAH 7:19 PM: Oops, sorry should not have mentioned that. Being apart makes me think of those days. What a mess but what a catch in the end…literally.

BAH 7:21 PM: Ah, the hotel. Have to go. Have fun at dinner tonight. Kiss my mom for me and the kids. Damn…I’m crying. Love you so, so, so much.

 

***

 

November 9, 2025 - London Time

KAH 9:18 AM: Honk!

BAH 9:53 AM: Honk?

KAH 5:14 PM: We’re too ships passing in the night.

BAH 5:48 PM: Well pull up sailor and park a while.

KAH 5:56 PM: You like seaman?

BAH 5:57 PM: Oh, yeah.

KAH 5:58 PM: This one has a loud for you.

BAH 5:59 PM: Really?????

KAH 5:59 PM: Saving up.

BAH 6:02 PM: Oh, my.

KAH 6:04 PM: Being separated from you has forced me to think about the hole…whore…thing.

BAH 6:05 PM: Kurt, no.

KAH 6:06 PM: Blaine, I’ve been…I feel…

BAH 6:06 PM: Kurt, don’t go there. Is Carole there?

KAH 6:07 PM: It’s not…what was.

KAH 6:09 PM: Sorry.

BAH 6:10 PM: You alright?

BAH 6:12 PM: Kurt?

BAH 6:16 PM: Kurt, for fuck’s sake.

BAH 6:17 PM: Kurt?

BAH 6:21PM: Damn it, Kurt?

BAH 6:24 PM: Answer, please.

BAH 6:26 PM: Kurt.

KAH 6:33 PM: Blaine, it’s…I think I have better go find Carole.

BAH 6:34 PM: I’ll come home.

KAH 6:35 PM: Don’t you dare!

BAH 6:36 PM: Kurt, my precious love?

BAH 6:41 PM: Kurt?

BAH 6:42 PM: Kurt?

KAH 6:46 PM: Blaine, this is your mom.

BAH 6:47 PM: Mom? Is he alright?

KAH 6:50 PM: He’ll be fine, dear. He’s in good hands. Don’t worry.

BAH 6:51 PM: Mom, I feel awful.

KAH 6:53 PM: No you don’t. You stay strong and don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen. And don’t cry.

BAH 6:54 PM: Too late.

BAH 6:54 PM: What happened?

KAH 6:55 PM: Blaine, he’s just overwhelmed.

BAH 6:57 PM: Mom? Tell me?

KAH 6:58 PM: My boy, he’s with Carole and Burt. Don’t worry.

BAH 6:59 PM: I’m booking a flight.

KAH 7:01 PM: Blaine, listen to me. Everything is fine. I know this is hard. Call your friend.

BAH 7:02 PM: Okay, mom. I don’t like this.

KAH 7:04 PM: Blaine, even if you can get a flight, you won’t be here until tomorrow morning at the earliest.

BAH 7:04 PM: Mom?

KAH 7:05 PM: Blaine, you knew this could happen with all that hypnosis stuff. Let Kurt do what he must.

BAH 7:06 PM: Mom, it’s killing me.

KAH 7:07 PM: Blow your nose and call you friend.

BAH 7:11 PM: Mom, yes, you’re right but it…I’ll call Judith.

KAH 7:13 PM: Good. I have to go. Don’t worry, too much.

BAH 7:14 PM: Yes, mom. Kiss him for me.

 

***

 

November 13, 2025 – London Time

KAH 3:22 PM: Blaine?

KAH 3:23 PM: You about?

KAH 3:38 PM: Blaine, I am doing fine. I know Carole and Pam kept you up to date. I’m out now.

KAH 3:47 PM: Text me, please.

 

BAH 7:27 PM: My god, Kurt. I’ve been so worried.

KAH 7:35 PM: Blaine? It’s you. Nodding off. I’ve been sitting on this thing waiting.

BAH 7:36 PM: Sorry, my love. ♥♥♥ How are you?

KAH 7:37 PM: Feeling stupid.

BAH 7:38 PM: Kurt, it’s so good to hear from you.

KAH 7:39 PM: Dido. I know we said we would not, but can we skype.

BAH 7:40 PM: Let me get my tablet jump started.

Throwing himself down onto a plush couch, Blaine rushed to get the idiotic thing powered up. Frustrated, by its slowness, he drew in a deep breath. At night, before sleeping, he found himself looking at photos going back to when they were in high school. He could not believe they both looked so young at one time. He wanted to see the real, emotional thing.

BAH 7:46 PM: Fuck. Windows forced an update.

KAH 7:47 PM: Patience.

BAH 7:48 PM: Damn it, I’m so horny.

KAH 7:49 PM: I’m jealous, your right hand has been unfaithful.

BAH 7:50 PM: And you still calm to have abstained.

KAH 7:51 PM: Blaine the kids are ready this.

BAH 7:52 PM: What?

BAH 7:53 PM: Just kidding, I have you all to myself. Carole’s in the living room. Pam took the kids to Rachel’s. They’re going to see the latest Disney movie.

BAH 7:54 PM: I’m not going to type what I said.

KAH 7:55 PM: I hope it was dirty?

BAH 7:56 PM: Quite the opposite.

BAH 7:58 PM: But now I’m laughing and wanting to throw that damned machine through the window.

KAH 7:59 PM: I’m not going anywhere Blaine. I can’t wait to see that look on your face.

BAH 8:00 PM: Me too.

KAH 8:01 PM: How are you feeling?

BAH 8:02 PM: Great now…Damned thing’s finally booting up.

KAH 8:03 PM: I’m feel so dumb.

BAH 8:03 PM: Don’t sweat it.

BAH 8:05 PM: Here we go skype’s loading.

KAH 8:06 PM: About time, I was getting the impression you didn’t want to see me.

KAH 8:06 PM: Never.

BAH 8:07 PM: Hurry up, god, damn it.

KAH 8:08 PM: Darling, take a breath.

BAH 8:10 PM: Finally.

A long list of people popped and in that instant three people pinged him. Ignoring them he found ‘SmittenWarbler’ and tapped on it and then the video chat icon. The sound played for a brief second and then a smiling face filled the screen. Blaine’s heart jumped. It felt as if he had not stared into those eyes for the years. A shiver ran up his back and for a moment he saw those two men standing on a hill looking out over the water. Left hand in right, one leaned his head on the shoulder of the other. Tension faded the instant he saw those eyes.

“You’re crying?” Kurt whispered, a wide smile on his face. He reached up as if to wipe the witness away.

The left side of his face stretched up in a wicked grin. Blaine felt so relieved. Kurt lay propped up on their huge bed with the most adorable look on his face. Neither of them could not stop themselves from grinning.

Wiping his own tear away, Kurt said, “Oh, you’re so handsome.”

Beaming, Blaine just sat there for a long moment staring. “My you’re a sight for sore eyes. How are you?”

“Better for seeing you.”

“Kurt…”

“Before you say it, I’m good Blaine. You want to see it.” Kurt moved his tablet. A messy duvet came into view as the image jumped all about until it revealed an odd angle of a foot propped up in by two pillows. Set in a firm binding designed for walking, the man wiggled his toes. “There you go, the prize for my stupidity.”

Blaine laughed and then Kurt’s image returned to the screen. Sighing, he shook his head. “Wait until I get home.”

“That will make it all worth it.” Kurt winked.

“Did you really slip on milk?”

“Yup. Flew up ass over tea kettle.”

“Can’t leave you for a second.”

“Try three weeks.” Kurt’s smile spread his lips wider than usual. “I thought I broke it but it’s only a bad sprain.”

“I guess this means I get to finally dance with Kenneth.” Blaine smirked.

“Na, you’re not getting rid of me that easy. You’ll be stuck with me on stage.”

“I would like to be stuck with you in some other position right now.”

“Naughty boy.”

“What about?”

“Sarah says she made a mistake suggesting we didn’t skype. I think she’s jealous.”

“She had better be. We’re the best.”

“That we are.” Kurt stared in silence for a number of seconds and then added, “Everyone here is good. Carole and your mother have been gems.”

“And the kids?”

“Their kids. Nothing seems to bug them but they do miss you.”

“I miss them too. I wish they were home.”

“Not a chance. I’m going to be selfish and keep you all to myself. I have so much I want to say.”

“Can it wait until I get home?”

“Sort of, I guess, but we should talk about the other night.”

“Kurt…” The look on Blaine’s face suddenly changed.

Shifting on the bed, Kurt looked perplexed. “What Blaine?”

Holding up his hand, Blaine began to sing.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0zDPw_IvDs)

  
_Who’s around when the days feel long_  
_Who’s around when you can’t be strong_  
_Who’s around when you’re losing your mind_

Smiling, Kurt joined in just as he had that night at Rachel’s just before Blaine planted an unsuspecting kiss on him.

_Who cares that you get home safe_  
_Who knows you can’t be replaced_  
_Who thinks that you’re one of a kind_

Blaine lifted a palm to the screen holding it out flat, fingers spread. Kurt’s came up to match his. Within his heart he felt flesh meet flesh. Their hearts pumped as one.

_[Kurt and Blaine:]_  
_Somebody misses you when you’re away_  
_They wanna wake up with you everyday_  
_Somebody wants to hear you say_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_

_[Blaine:] I’m around when your head is heavy_  
_[Kurt:] I’m around when your hands aren’t steady_  
_[Kurt and Blaine:] I’m around when your day’s gone all wrong_  
_I care that you feel at home_  
_[Blaine:] Cause I know that you feel alone ([Kurt:] You feel alone)_  
_[Blaine:] I think you’re going to miss me when I’m gone ([Kurt:] You're gonna miss m when I'm gone)_

_[Kurt and Blaine:]_  
_Somebody misses you when you’re away_  
_They wanna wake up with you everyday_  
_Somebody wants to hear you say_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_

[ _Kurt and Blaine:] Why don’t you come on over_  
_[Blaine:] Why don’t you lay me down ([Kurt:] Lay me Down)_  
_Does the pain feel better_  
_When I’m around_  
_If I am good to you_  
_[Blaine:] Won’t you be good to me ([Kurt:] Good to me)_  
_That’s how easy this should be_

_[Kurt:] Somebody misses you when you’re away ([Blaine:] Somebody misses you baby)_  
_[Kurt:] They wanna wake up with you everyday ([Blaine:] They wanna wake up with you)_  
_[Kurt:] Somebody wants to hear you say ([Blaine:] Oh they want you to say)_  
_[Kurt and Blaine:]_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_  
_Ooh somebody loves you_


	36. London Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning the chapter contains sexual content.

November 15, 2025 - London Time

 

LimaYodeler 2:27 PM: Hey Blaine, its Sam.

BAH 3:44 PM: Sam? How are you?

LimaYodeler 3:56 PM: I’m good, Blaine. And you?”

BAH 4:02 PM: Good. I’m in London. You?”

LimaYodeler 4:03 PM: Boring old Lima. Between classes. Was thinking about you? How’s Kurt?

BAH 4:06 PM: It’s complicated. But we’re getting through it.

LimaYodeler 4:07 PM: Is he with you?

BAH 4:08 PM: In New York.

LimaYodeler 4:10 PM: I guess you miss him.

BAH 4:11 PM: More than you can imagine. Sam, I’ve missed our talks but considering all that happened you needed your time.

LimaYodeler 4:12 PM: I know you tried to get hold of me. Been a bit of a roller coaster.

KAH 4:12 PM: Hey there, honey.

BAH 4:13 PM: Lovie dovie!

KAH 4:14 PM: I got you live? Sorry it’s taken all day to get hold of you. It’s still nuts here.

BAH 4:15 PM: I can imagine. How is my sweet canary today? (Sent to Kurt)

LimaYodeler 4:15 PM: Jiu and I are getting married.

BAH 4:16 PM: What? (Intended for Sam but accidently sent to Kurt.)

KAH 4:17 PM: Blaine?

BAH 4:18 PM: When? How? (Sent to Sam)

BAH 4:19 PM: Kurt, Sam and Jiu are getting married. (Sent to Kurt)

KAH 4:20 PM: What? No shit?

LimaYodeler 4:21 PM: She asked three days ago.

KAH 4:21 PM: That’s the last thing I expected. But good you two are talking.

LimaYodeler 4:22 PM: When you get back we need to chat.

BAH 4:23 PM: Will do. (Fat fingers sent it to Kurt. Should have gone to Sam.)

BAH 4:24 PM: Will do. (Resent to the right person, Sam)

KAH 4:24 PM: Do what?

BAH 4:25 PM: Wrong person, sorry honey. (Sent to Kurt.)

LimaYodeler 4:25 PM: You in New York for Xmas?

BAH 4:26 PM: How are today sweetie? (Ended up going to Sam and not Kurt.)

LimaYodeler 4:27 PM: Blaine?

A gentle rap on the door distracted Blaine. He looked up and frowned.

BAH 4:28 PM: Chatting with Kurt. (Sent to the right person, Sam.)

KAH 4:29 PM: Blaine how is Sam other than the pre-marriage bliss? We didn’t really get to enjoy that. Well sort of???

LimaYodeler 4:29 PM: Say hello.

The annoying knock repeated itself.

BAH 4:31 PM: Someone’s at the door. Be right back. (To Kurt instead of Sam.)

BAH 4:32 PM: Have to answer the door. Be a sec. (To Kurt again.)

Swearing, Blaine’s eyes rolled, Fingers pressed tiny touch points on glass as he gets up. He hoped for a quiet afternoon and a walk in the park and to relax a little.

KAH 4:33 PM: The callboy has arrived?

BAH 4:34 PM: Never. (Sent to Sam.)

Paying little attention where he is walking, Blaine’s smashed into a low table. Cursing, he hopped to one side and strode to the door with his head down typing.

LimaYodeler 4:35 PM: Never, what?

That someone knocked again and this time a little bit more forceful. Blaine paused. What if Jerry stood on the other side? The sound technician’s careless flirting irritated him.

BAH 4:36 PM: Damned door. (Intended for Sam but ended up going to Kurt.)

Reaching for the nob, Blaine one fingered a repeat text to Sam. Without looking up, he pulled the door inward and suddenly stopped. A puzzled look crossed his face as he squinted at the foot encased in a walking cast. Glancing up, his eyes went wide as the phone slipped from his fingers.

“Surprise!” Kurt yelled out, his voice rising in pitch. Wearing a mid-length double breasted wool jacket, the smiled on his face could have lit a city.

With a ferocity that stunned his husband, Blaine threw himself at his lover. Pressing his lips into his handsome face he wrapped his arms about him. Instinctively Kurt folded himself into the embrace. The immensely happy man pushed his body into Blaine as if trying to make two, one. An older couple strolling down the hall gave him an odd look.

 

“Kurt?” The word caught in Blaine’s throat as he pulled back ever so slightly. Watery eyes went down to the hobbled foot.

Shrugging, Kurt blushed ever so slightly. “I couldn’t hold out.”

“I see that.’ Blaine did not want to let the man he loved go but the buzzing of the phone pulled him away. Stooping down and picked the device up.

“Sam?” Kurt inquired.

Giving Kurt a look, Blaine’s eyebrows came together and then he shook his head. “Come in and put that foot up.”

“I know that look. No, Sam is not in on this.” Kurt hauled his luggage in out of the hall. Setting it beside a narrow table next to the door, he pulled off his jacket and threw it onto the nearby chair.

“I wasn’t implying,” Blaine watched his husband. Such a beautiful walk and that smile melted the heart.

Pushing a finger into his lover’s chest, Kurt grinned. “I know you, Blaine.”

Closing the door, Blaine sent a quick message to Sam and then tossed the phone on his husband’s coat. Not moving he stared at Kurt with a myriad of emotions flashing across his face.

“Are you angry with me?” Kurt turned in the middle of the room. Worry flashed in his eyes.

“No, never.” Blaine’s expression abruptly changed. “I can’t believe you would be so crazy.”

Holding his arms out, Kurt beaconed his love to him. Sauntering over, Blaine folded his hands about the man he treasured. Chins leaning on one another’s shoulders, both felt the excitement of the moment expressed by some other part of their bodies. Hearts thumping erratically it did not take too long before they beat as one. Heightened sentiment created an over powering sensation of ‘better’.

 

Deliberately shuffling his feet, Kurt imitated dancing motions. Intuitively his husband followed. Humming a slow song they both knew, Kurt lay his head on Blaine’s shoulder allowing the absurd fear that had gripped him in the hall to fade into normalcy. The path to London had not been easy. Eventually, Carole and the doctor agreed with only one provision. Pam ardently agreed even though Burt had something less kind to say about the crazy idea. The flight over the pond proved to be an interesting bundle of nerves.

“Blaine, I want you?” Kurt whispered as a hand sank deep into the other man’s pants finding the hair covering his butt.

“You…” Blaine hesitated. Restlessly his mind flashed to the doctor’s office.

Kurt’s free hand reached into a pocket and pulled something out. Forcing the container of lubricant and a row of six condoms into his lover’s palm, Kurt impishly grinned. Blaine immediately stopped moving and give his partner an inquisitive look. Kurt winked and took his husband’s hand. Tossing the accessories onto the bed, he sucked on a single finger. At that moment expressive eyes revealed primitive yearnings. Tender lips press into the skin of Kurt’s neck. Extracting his hand from the back of Blaine’s pants, Kurt ran his fingers through gelled hair.

Leaning in, Blaine’s tongue caressed salty skin up to the tender spot just below Kurt’s ear. The body next to him quivered and then a sense of quiet encroached upon both of them. Immediately Blaine’s uneasiness spun away creating something respectfully different. Filled with desire, Blaine’s teeth tugged on an earlobe as gentle, unbridled hunger took them. His lover’s head came about. Feverously kissing, they slowly turned in a circle. Then, with uncharacteristic intent, Kurt pulled at Blaine’s shirt shedding buttons in all directions. The light fabric rolled off his shoulders and effortlessly drifted to the floor revealing the full luster of a toned torso covered in soft dark hair. Arching closer, Kurt pushed his face into Blaine’s thick, sexy lips.

Shocked, Blaine took a half step back. Unperturbed, Kurt flowed into the gap pressing his mouth into his lover’s face. At the same time his thumb traced a line down the soft hair of Blaine’s chest sending a shiver up his husband’s back. Reversing the motion, three digits ran up the channels of the stomach finding an erect nipple. Blaine’s eyes fluttered and with a groan he pulled his adorable husband tightly to him.

Wandering fingers lifted the cashmere sweater up onto Kurt’s shoulders while the other hand traced a line down the back bone. Passing around to the front, fingers pulled at the fortress of Kurt’s belt disabling the final defense. The point of no return passed with little more than the pop of a button. Caught up on a large obstacle bulging up front, it hung there for a moment and then suddenly collapsed to the ankles. The lack of under garments allowing the object of immeasurable joy to spring to expended life. The sight brought an awed look to Blaine’s face. Pointed flesh stretched within colourful underwear as heat rose in his cheeks.

Hauling the sweater over his head, Kurt took his husband’s left hand. Pulling it down, he placed it on his inner thigh just below the impressive instrument. Blaine gave his husband a look and then his fingers deliberately strained down below the scrotum tickling. Closing his eyes, Kurt spread his legs providing a hint of the pending future. Goose bumps rose upon exposed skin.

Relishing the sensation Kurt wandered the paths of intensified sensuality created by the tantalizingly gentle touch of his lover fully captured him. Pushing his hand back into Blaine’s pants, Kurt reveled in the feeling of the soft hair occupying that special space of his husband’s butt. In response, Blaine moaned and leaned forward with his digits still playing around Kurt’s never regions. With a concerted effort, Kurt dragged his hands under the waistband around to the front of Blaine’s pants. Consumed with devilish delight Kurt brushed his fingers up against the hardness trapped within human garments. The other hand pulled cloth tight as the other pulled the zipper down. A second later a button snapped and Blaine’s light pants tumbled down to the floor.

Amused. Blaine slid his tongue down Kurt’s hairless body. Kissing a thigh, he shucked his pants, under garments and socks while Kurt lightly messaged his shoulders. Happily naked, Blaine glanced up with a questioning look. Grinning, he gently knocked on the orthopedic device binding an ankle.

Tapping his love on his head, Kurt said, “Pull up a chair.”

Reaching to his left, Blaine grasped one of the luxuriously curving chairs. Too heavy, he leaned further and tugged at the wooden leg pulling it closer. His husband fell back into it giggling before it completed its transit. Stooping down, Kurt kissed Blaine on the forehead and then reached for the tangled cloth about his feet only to be stopped. The adorable curly haired man gazed up at him shaking his head. Licking a knee, he dragged his tongue lightly down the unbound foot. Tugging the sock off, he popped each toe into his mouth. The pant leg followed in short order and then Blaine hesitated. Giving his sweet an evil look his eyebrows went up several times.

Ripping the velcro strips apart, Kurt kissed his husband on the side of the head. Carefully removed the protective device he paused as a flash of discomfort raced up his leg. Wincing, he pulled the pant leg over his swollen foot. Staring at his gorgeous husband he then slipped the binding back over his sock.

Blaine gazed at his husband with one eyebrow raised.

“It’s better to be safe,” Kurt spoke softly.

Nodding, Blaine leaned forward and slurped his tongue up the leg to the knee where he gently chewed. Working his way up a thigh Blaine purposely bypassed a large obstacle on his way to the belly button. In response Kurt fell back onto the chair spreading his arms wide. Seeing his love lying there wide open tugged at Blaine’s heart strings. The man he prized accepted his attention with little reservation. The longer it lasted the more passionate Blaine became. Wanting to give his all, he made every effort linger to the edge of pleasant torture. A twitch here and a groan there battered down long weeks of misgivings, regrets and loathing.

Enjoying the bath, Kurt’s closed his eyes. The warm moistness on his skin pulled his mind away from the moment toward a place both men had enjoyed. Tumbling water and warm summer days spent with his teenage boyfriend brought tender fantasies to the surface. Two adulterants frolicked in the stream and later lay out drying in the sun. Hands barely touching, it became enough to cement their favours. The sensations made him feel as if he drifted effortless downstream.

Working his way up an arm, the abrupt rigidity of Kurt’s bicep gave Blaine warning. Eyes rolled up to catch the look of anguish one his husband’s face. Drawing in a deep breath, Blaine felt the hope he sensed dive into the abyss as uncomfortable remorse wrenched at his heart. His shoulders slumped along with his enthusiasm. An important part of his sexual anatomy collapsed.

Swirling in a dim whirlpool just out of reach of the light, Kurt felt himself being dragged down. Hateful talons gripped his feet as Chandler’s terrorizing laugher echoed deep within his being. Part of him screamed knowing no one would hear while some distant aspect of his soul sought a brilliant point of smothering love. Reaching for the flashing embers, the mind fought to cast out the fear leeching into the heart. The beast exerted itself but love proved stronger. Swiftly, the body relaxed and harsh emotions became elated joy. A crack appeared in the wall he faced revealing the light of a new day. Streaming through an uneven crag the chilly touch of a dreadful man faded into the warmth of a devoted soul.

With little forethought, Kurt placed a hand on his lover’s cheek. Instinctively Blaine pressed his lips into his husband’s palm and the calm returned. Choking back a tears both men felt the misfortunes of the past fall away like the dying ripples in a still pond. Briefly, hazel eyes locked on blue. In that instant they shared mutual pain and then a sense of release. Pressing his cheek into Kurt’s hand Blaine held it there for a long while as if telling the man he loved everything would be fine. A fond smile spread Kurt’s mouth and then he slid his hand down to Blaine’s neck. The man responded and hauled himself up to his husband’s lips.

Drowning in gentle kisses, Kurt slowly pushed his husband away. Looking to the huge, comfortable bed, one husband offered the other a hand. Kurt smiled as a hand fell upon Blaine’s naked ass. Circling behind his lover, Blaine snuggled up to the other man pressing his newly exaggerated appendage between lean dancer’s thighs. Groaning, Kurt squeezed his legs together as he slowly moved toward the bed. Remaining as close as he could each step creating a motivating thrusting sensation.

A couple of feet from the bed, Blaine gently twisted Kurt around so they faced one another. Leaning close, Kurt passionately kissed his husband. Wrapped in one each other, they gently lowered one another onto the bed. Kissing for a short while they broke apart and slide up the thick duvet. Nose to nose, hazel eyes gazed into blue. Hands slowly clasped one another as a thumb stroked soft skin. The symbolism of the moment brought deep smiles to their faces.

Lying still for several moments, Kurt shifted. First his mouth pressed against Blaine’s and second a hand reached down to stroke a flaccid snake. Blaine’s lips pulled up on side bringing back that first really comforting smile at Dalton. Invited for coffee, for Kurt it felt like he sat before the inquisition. Little did he know what fate had instore?

Noting the twinkle in his love’s eye, Blaine ran a finger down Kurt’s torso. Tickling the puff of hair about the base of his power stick, he knew what the other man felt. The soft gentle touch reminded them of ineffective attempts to cross the southern border of their youth. The meanderings of the time before they abandoned their virgin ways worked to create a foundation of trust built upon the crushing desire to be with one another.

Noses bumping up to another again, once more lips touched. Tentative and playful his tongue searched until his charming husband reciprocated. Once more their blood started to boil enflaming an everlasting appetite. Carefully straddling his lover, Kurt rode the hills of his butt back and forth along Blaine’s tickle pickle. Desirous of more, Blaine’s moaned. Echoing through time it transformed into a single, nasty work an old man regrettably recognized. Sentimental pain pulled at an already weakened heart as the word conjured images of dark street corners. Lowering his head onto the arm of his departed love a dying man mourned his weakness. None of it had been the fault of the man he loved. It lived totally within the resentment he carried the long years of his life.  
Somewhere in a withering mind Kurt’s spirit whispered to the old man pulling him away from past miseries. Washing over him like the gentle splashing of a warm shower, aged Blaine felt his younger self fighting the natural impulse to pull away. Redemption slipped ever closer to the edge and then the old man sensed an undulation within his remembrances. Resonating from the past, his younger self found the will to subdue the hateful word. The core of the experience changed creating a freedom that reaffirmed teenage admiration and heart filled vows. Carnal aggression grew into a sense of joyful revitalization and an enduring belonging.

A peculiar sense of freedom ran through an old man as his fledgling self playfully titillated the delicate points of Kurt’s body. Finger and toes, underarms and the arch of his back, he left nothing untouched. The digits housed within a sock found themselves moistened. With gentle ease he rolled his husband to his side while the tongue played across the erogenous zones between the shoulders. Reaching down his husband’s form one of Blaine’s fingers tickling the crevice of his butt. At the same time he leaned over his partner’s hips and skillfully placed his mouth over the head of Kurt’s stretching joystick.

A heavy sense of ‘oh god’ raced through an old body. Recollection spoke of short teasing lashes of the tongue and the soft probing of a single finger but this thing he remembered shifted ever so slightly away from reality. The fabric of the memory seemed to shimmer as a living Kurt bend his leg providing greater access. The motion altered young Blaine’s positon making it harder for him to greedily engulf all his husband had to offer. Eventually the awkwardness forced him to relinquish his hold on Kurt’s juicy lollipop. Sliding back behind his husband he withdrew his finger replacing it with the firmness of his pleasure missile. Pushing the shaft here and there along the threshold of Kurt’s butt, Blaine teased for long seconds while his lover eagerly pivoted his pelvis in anticipation. Feeling his own prowess expand, young Blaine grasped for the small container at the edge of the bed. Flipping the top, he squirted an overabundance into his palm. Pulling his hips back he lathered up his demanding appendage. With loving care he pressed the inflamed head up against a willing outlet.

Tender probing caused Kurt to tense up. Blaine instantly began to withdraw but then a hand slapped against his bare ass pulling him toward the man in front of him. Teetering on the edge, pain swept from a deceased heart to the tips of an old man’s fingers. Breathing proved agonizingly hard but then somehow he tasted sweaty skin. In that place, only an old man could know, he sensed the prize subtly shift as a young man tentatively continued. As each inch pushed deeper, his husband opened up like a dewy flower. Slow rhythm brought astounding desire. Blaine badgered his exalted partner developing a crescendo of seductive cravings.

Rocking his body so that each thrust mirrored a pair of beating hearts, youth and age heard the resonances of the wind howling up the sharp slope in their minds. In that funny away, they saw a huge tree surrounded by large bushes standing on the edge of a steep hill. A middle aged man pressed his hands up against rough bark. His head rose and fell with the obsessive motion of the man who penetrated the body from behind. The passion of their lost youth exploded with reckless abandon. In that moment and time lovers no longer felt restrained by the virtues of Victorian society. Love renewed itself as the pounding of the surf provided rhythm. The primal drumming morphed into the heavy breathing of two over excited young men. A tear rolled from an old man’s eye.

Over an hour later and after swapping the aggressive roles, the boys lay there happily sated. Having erupted twice, Blaine felt utterly relaxed. The uneasiness which had gripped him vanished within the mysteriousness he endured from time to time. He marveled at the manner they played off of each other’s weaknesses and strengths creating a wondrous event. Sensations of teenage lust, greed, gentleness and undying love gripped both of them in firm, affectionate embrace. The sensation made him feel overjoyed.

Eyes rolled up so that he could see his love, Blaine smiled. Kurt lay there with his head to the right pressed back into the pillow panting. The adorable man managed a rare, third expulsion. The memory gave Blaine hope even though a sprig of pain jolted his heart. The things they had both endured refused to fade. However, a young man now understood he held a key.

Kurt’s head moved as he looked down at the curls pushed into his cheek. Happier than he had been for over a year, fingers lovingly pressed into the unruly mass. His attention suddenly flashed to the initial moment he saw that full, broccoli head. First came shock and, then, like now, it held the truth of Blaine Anderson. He might have known the moment their eyes met in Dalton but the sight of all that frizz at the prom pulled the last drapery back revealing the final mystery.

Somehow Blaine comprehended his husband’s sentiments. Gazing at his adorable husband his heart overflowed with incontestable love. The gift of emotion, longing and comfort gently fused together as Blaine rested his chin on Kurt’s chest. Absently, an index finger gently stroked his husband’s outstretched arm.

“My, you were an animal.” Kurt’s voice could barely be heard.

“We need to be apart more often.” Blaine’s smile could have melted an iceberg.

Tapping his love on the nose, Kurt shook his head. “Not on your life.”

“You struggled,” Blaine glanced away and then back. “Are you sure that...nah.”

“Blaine, you can speak of it.”

“I don’t’ want to.”

“My lovely husband.” Fingers came to rest on Blaine’s cheek. “We can’t hide forever.”

Reluctantly Blaine nodded.

Grinning, Kurt said, “I’ll admit the past two weeks have been unpleasant.”

Pushing himself up, Blaine gave his partner a terribly sad look. “I…”

“Hush.” Pressing fingers to his husband’s mouth, Kurt whispered. “It had to be. With you always there I didn’t really face my demons. When you walked out of sight to catch your plane everything began to swirl. Poor Carole, she was so good to me.”

“Kurt? I would never have gone if I had known.”

“I would have made you.”

The look on Blaine’s face went hard and then abruptly softened onto a frown.

Pushing his lips out, Kurt softy said, “I can’t pretend it’s over, but this is the freest I’ve felt in months.”

“You could have told me?”

“I didn’t know what I was doing, but I’ll make you a deal.”

“Okay?”

“No more hiding from the monsters in my head.”

“Deal, but I don’t have to like watching you…us suffer,” Blaine pouted.

“I don’t either, but then, that was the best sex?” Kurt winked at his husband as his finger dug deeply into the other man’s moist back.

Blaine smiled and stretched to kiss his husband. “It reminded me of our first time.”

“At least I held off for the main event this time.” The smile on Kurt’s face hinted of embarrassment.

Blaine chuckled and kissed Kurt again.

Yawning, Kurt grasped for his husband’s hand.

Sliding down beside his lover, Blaine snuggled up against a sweaty body. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

“You made me feel so special.”

“You’ll always be special.”

Kurt paused and then his face stiffened. “You know, that was the first time we did it without protection since…”

The fear gripping Blaine streaked across his face. Involuntarily pulling back, his eyes looked away at the unopened condoms caught up in the disheveled duvet.

The look on his husband’s face conjured up an unsurmountable wave of guilt within Kurt. Pulling in a long, shaky breath he placed a hand on his husband’s cheek. Sighing, he said. “My love, I have been tested every couple of months. Nothing.”

Blaine blinked.

“No, no, Blaine, I…” Falling silent, Kurt’s chest visibly moved from the pounding within.

Breathing deeply, Blaine rested his head on Kurt’s arm and staring up at him.

“Blaine, this was a one off.” Kurt rolled over cupping the face of the man he loved in his free hand. He looked hurt.

Fondly gazing at his husband, Blaine whispered, “A one off is all it takes but I trust and love you. If it comes to pass then we will deal with it together. If not, we have a perfect union for the however long we will live.”

“Blaine…?”

“Kurt, we talked this out.” Blaine gave him a sideways look.

Kurt frowned. “Okay, now what?”

“We lose ourselves in our togetherness?”

“I can go for that. What about us in London?”

“Tomorrow is Sunday and the crew is taking it off. We can do some tourist stuff. I would like to go to the Tower and walk along the Thames.”

“I might be able to keep up with you for some of it.”

“Sorry, forgot. Well, once we get up…”

“Again?” Evil wink.

“In the morning.”

“That’s what I meant.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“You love it.”

“That I do.”

Kurt smirked.

“When we roll out of bed, we can get hold of Judith…” Blaine suddenly perked up. Lifting his head and stained to look at the nearby clock.

“What?” Kurt sounded concerned.

“Judith will be here in just over an hour. She is taking me to a party in Kensington.”

“Swanky?”

“Did you bring a tux?”

“No, just a suit. Did she say it was formal?

“Not really.”

“Then it will do.”

Blaine started for the edge of the bed but Kurt caught his husband’s hand.

“We need to clean up.” Blaine turned back to Kurt as he spoke.

Suddenly pulling Blaine closer, Kurt planted a big kiss on him and then pushed him dramatically away. “Now, I’m ready for that shower. You joining me.”

Dragging himself off the end of the bed, Blaine stood and stretched. Turning back he made a face and then shrugging.  
Gingerly moved his injured leg to the edge of the mattress Kurt slowly stood. Pausing, he gave his love an odd, ‘oh dear’ look.

Staring, Blaine questioned, “And?”

“How could I forget?” Kurt glanced at the door to the suite and threw his arms in the air. “Your mom’s in the Courtyard Room.”

“What?” Blaine eyes went wide.

Pouting, Kurt replied “It was the only way Sarah would let me come. Pam wanted to rest and give us some private time.”

His face scrunching up Blaine suddenly sighed and ran for the bathroom.


	37. London Part 3

“This is a bit of a surprise,” Pam commented. Squished between her son and Judith, Kurt sat in front of Blaine beside the handsome middle aged driver.

“The whole evening has been on big surprise,” Blaine muttered. Dressed in a dark suit with his customary bowtie, he looked a bit uncomfortable. He stared at the back of his husband’s carefully coifed hair. The sight of the delightful man made him feel less exasperated.

“Come off it, dearest,” Kurt cooed from the front. The long black tie with fine red piping reached down to his belt. The charcoal grey suit he wore fit him very well. “You loved my little surprise.”

With his mother right there, Blaine felt self-conscious. Obscuring his smiled, he could not, however, hide the shift in his skin tone. To settle himself, he reached forward placing a hand on Kurt’s shoulder. In turn, a hand fell on top of his. Having Kurt in his arms earlier made him think of the events affecting their lives. God knows, Kurt sometimes drove him to distraction. Likewise, his own idiosyncrasies certainly caused the dear man headaches. Being a couple meant accepting, attuning and forgiving the little irritating things. The large things deserved discussion and concession. Sometimes it took time. Blaine’s culpability forced understanding on this accord. Twice they broke up and twice more they came very close.

Bowing his head, he paused. The same thoughts crossed him mind several times over the years. Slowly his lips pulled into a frown. Blaine’s mind abruptly pictured the stands beside McKinley’s football field. Back then a teenager lamented about his stupidity and loneliness. The smallest thing caused him to burst into tears a guilt ripped at his heart. The song he sang back then bounced about in his mind with one huge variance - here, in London, the words meant something very different and vastly more important.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUT5VQzF-QY)

_Guess mine is not the first heart broken,_  
_My eyes are not the first to cry,_  
_I'm not the first to know there's_  
_Just no getting over you_  
_I know I'm just a fool who's willing_  
_To sit around and wait for you_  
_But baby can't you see,_  
_There's nothing else for me to do_  
_I'm hopelessly devoted to you_

_But now,_  
_There's nowhere to hide_  
_Since you pushed my love aside_  
_I'm outta my head hopelessly devoted to you_  
_Hopelessly devoted to you_  
_Hopelessly devoted to you_

_My head is saying "Fool! Forget him"_  
_My heart is saying "Don't let go"_  
_Hold on to the end,_  
_That's what I intend to do_  
_I'm hopelessly devoted to you_

_But now,_  
_There's nowhere to hide_  
_Since you pushed my love aside_  
_I'm outta my head hopelessly devoted to you_  
_Hopelessly devoted to you_  
_Hopelessly devoted to you_

Lyrics recycled compelling Blaine to fight against the overwhelming desire to sing aloud. Yes, he remained shamelessly committed to the man he considered divorcing a few months ago. The bond they shared may have stretched thin but it never snapped. Kurt flying all this way to be with him marked the beginning of the end of the deplorable event. The apprehension they felt while making love help them work through the most dangerous issues they had been facing. The fact neither of them remembered to use protection confirmed they once more trusted each other.

The young man unexpectedly smirked. Releasing a noisy breath, he recalled the look on Burt’s face when Kurt told the FBI agent how they made love. His eyes had locked with his father-in-law’s as a conversation in a garage came to mind. At that moment Blaine feared his father-in-law more than his anger he felt for his husband.

“Blaine?” Pam whispered leaning closer.

Caught off guard Blaine turned to his mother. His eyes fixed on hers. For a second he wanted to be in New York facing the complex dramas of family life.

Placing a hand on her son’s thigh, Pam inquired. “You still angry.”

“Mom, I’m over joyed you chose to babysit Kurt.” That got Blaine a look from the front seat. “Seeing you made me so happy…”

“But?” Pam cut her son of.

Blaine drew in soft breath. The euphoria the song faded as a simmering mood returned. Heated words infected his thoughts. “Mom, you needed something more respectable to wear.”

Pam shook her head. “Since when have you become the fashion guru?”

“Look at Cooper’s wedding.” The moment the words passed Blaine’s lips he mourned them. Cooper and Inga’s wedding had not exactly been a formal affair. Held on a rocky beach of a bay in northern Sweden it included many national obsessions such as saunas and cold water.

“Honey, I put up with enough of this from your father when…” She pulled her lips together and looked away.

A low growl escaped Blaine’s throat. Forty minutes ago they went at it. Why did he steer them down this path.

“Oh, Blaine, really, darling, do suck it up like a good little gay boy and enjoy,” Judith butt in before things went any further. She gazed passed Pam at her son giving him a speculative look.

Blaine’s shoulders slumped. Letting out a sigh, he glanced at his mom with a sad look. “Mom, I don’t want to argue.”

“Now kiss and make up.” Judith insisted.

Blaine gave her an odd gaze and then looked to Kurt who stretched to look back.

The Dame cocked her head to one side. “Well?”

Suddenly smiling, Blaine leaned over and kissed his mom on the check. While the sentiment meant many things, his mood continued to twist. He really did not understand why he felt this way. So far, minus a small disruption, the evening had been more than perfect. Maybe it had something to do with the weird sensation he felt when Kurt finally opened up to his love making. For a second he sensed something distant and dark as if death somehow hovered close by.

“Good boy. Tonight is meant to be fun. How often do I get to show off my American cuties?” Judith wagged a finger at his young friend. “Besides, a lady of stature should be able to wear whatever she wishes.”

Blaine’s face scrunched up. The aging actress had a point but then, they drove down the richest street in England. He could not really blame his mother because she has come to London not expecting a classy evening out. Judith had shown him off twice times over the last couple of weeks. Ang held parties that worked out to be extended business meetings. He knew how uppity some of the British upper class could be. He did not want to be one of those boorish Americans.

Kurt, on the other hand, took in everything with his usual sense of excitement. Like a child in a toy store, he watched the street making sometimes catty assessments of how people dressed. At times he commented about the need to go shopping on High Street. He had always dreamed of Harrods. Blaine had intended to fulfil that wish before he departed. Now, he would enjoy the impressive store and it legendary high tea with two people he loved.

Fully aware his lovely husband looked out for him, Kurt felt amazingly more himself. In this environment and surrounded by loved ones, he rediscovered that sense of adventure hard events robbed from him. The passion of love making followed by the stupid mother son discussion made him fell almost whole. Then, for a brief moment, he thought he heard a dreamy voice. In some manner he felt it in his heart as if he walked in Blaine’s shoes. The idea sent a shiver up his spine because he had never felt quite like this before. In some bizarre way it felt as if their souls somehow spoke.

In that same way, Blaine recognized the quivering sensation racing down his lover’s back. Lifting his swinging mood, he found himself watching his mother. She stared past Judith through window of the forty year old Rolls Royce. People strolled the streets wearing coats suitable for a moist, late fall evening. Ornate street lamps cast dim shadows out from their bases. Large, leafless trees lined the on both sides of the avenue in front of stately, white faced manor houses. Some hid behind thick, manicured hedges while finely craft wrought iron fences guarded others. Affluent beyond anything she could imagine, the neighbourhood enthralled her.

The look on her shadowy face caused Blaine’s emotions to dip. Leaning closer, he tapper her on the arm. When she turned, he softly whispered, “Mom, I really am sorry. I’m such a prig at times.”

“Dear, there is no need. Considering the past few month, I more than understand.” Pam kissed her son on the cheek making it all better.

Bashfully grinning, Blaine’s brown eyes went to Kurt. His handsome husband sat sideways looking back at him with an adoring look on his face. They blew each other kisses.

Patting her son’s leg, Pam looked to her hostess. “Thank you, Judith for arranging all this.”

“It was nothing more than a quick addition to the guest list. The main event had been planned long before I knew that handsome son of yours would be gracing our little island with his greatness. And now I get two pieces of arm candy.” Judith paused and quickly glanced out the window. Looking back at Pam, her face remained prim and proper. “Thank the gods, a lady of stature arrived to save the day and bully the hotel into finding something suitable amongst the dry cleaning.”

Shaking her head, Pam started to laugh. Up front Kurt stretched to look at his husband and then joined in. The sparkle in those blue eyes made Blaine felt foolish and that rascally grin made it impossible for him not to chuckle.

Leaning forward, Blaine glanced at Judith who stuck a single thumb up. The veteran actress then said, “Just because we’re headed for the most uptight section of town doesn’t mean they’re a stuffy lot. I’ve been to more than one party that ended up in the pool.”

“No?” Kurt blurt out. His head turned toward the back seat.

“Oh, yes.” Judith fondly smiled. “In seventy eight, the lot of us ended up in the Round Pond in Hyde Park. A horde of police arrived in short order. They backed off when they discovered who was there.”

Restrained by a seatbelt. Kurt looked back with a wild, inquisitive expression on his face.

Grinning, Judith spoke before Kurt could open his mouth, “Sorry dear, state secret.”

Rolling his eyes, Kurt glanced at Blaine for support but said to Judith. “Who is going to be at this revelry?”

“Just a few friends. No one on really import.” Judith bobbed her head back and forth as if she counted out names. “Perhaps a few West End types. You know, producers, directors and actor or three.”

“You’re not going to tell us are you?” Blaine glanced across his mother at Judith.

“Don’t be nosy, dear.” Pam tapped her son on the arm.

The car made a slow turn to get around someone’s very lavish sports car double parked close to a huge gate. The sight gave away to a high hedge with an ornate metal fence separating it from the side walk. Pointing at a rather substantial structure poking up out of the trees of Palace Avenue, Judith said in a flat tone, “Oh, there is it, our destination.”

“That’s Kensington Palace?” Kurt sputtered on the words.

“Yes, I do believe it is?” Judith replied with all innocence. A consonant actress, she gave nothing away.

Giving Judith a sour look, Kurt accused. “You’re playing with us?”

“I don’t think so,” Pam commented as the car made the slow turn into the drive.

“You never told us you knew royalty?” Blaine gazed at Judith.

“Oh, the failing memory of youth? You forget our little cruise on the Rhine.” For the first time this evening, Judith let her practiced face fall away into a roguish grin.

Blaine’s jaw dropped and he glanced at Kurt. The both said, “Princess Margaret.”

“Among others,” Judith added.

“Oh, god’s I’m going to be sick.” Kurt moaned.

“No you’re not dear.” Pam stroked Kurt’s shoulder. Her eyes briefly went to her son. She looked a tiny bit worried.

The smooth riding luxurious car veered toward a gate with a guardhouse. A tall man in a dark suite stepped out and spoke to the driver who hand the security official a stiff card about the size of a photograph. The officious fellow studied it before looking into the back window. Judith waved at the thirty odd year old sentry who returned a nod. Speaking to the driver again, the car dove on.

A few minutes later three Americans and a prim British actress strolled through the threshold into British history. The impeccably dressed doorman escorted them through elegantly appointed galleries with high walls covered in priceless paintings and lined with stunning statuary. Those who had traveled across the pond stared at the opulence with wonder. The portrait beside them could bring millions at auction. The vase next to it dated back to the late seventeen hundreds. The rug under a shining, narrow mahogany table had been hand woven in Iran long before the fall of the Shah.

Slowing down, Blaine absently slipped his right hand into Kurt’s left. It happened all so naturally and felt more than comforting. For the first time in so many month’s Blaine felt young and almost in control. The warmth of his hand reflected what he felt to the man he loved. Not even the peculiar sensation that haunted him the past couple of hours bothered him.

Glancing at his husband, Kurt’s grinned. He sensed the sentiment stemming from his husband. He found it cute. Leaning closer he asked, “Do you think we are going to meet Harry?”

“I wouldn’t count on that. He has a new family.” Blaine whispered. His thumb absently rubbed the back of his lover’s hand.

“We have a family.” Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand.

Blaine leaned into his husband playfully butting him with his shoulder. “Now Judith gets to show off the other half of our dynamic duel.”

“Would I do that to you?” Judith’s drew her words out. She glanced over her shoulder at the tourists.

“We love you, Judith.” Kurt responded.

“Yes, we do and yes, you would,” Blaine added. “But then, who could pass up meeting my adorable husband.”

“Ah,” Kurt quickly kissed Blaine on the cheek.

The older actress smiled and looked to Pam. “They haven’t changed since the first time I met them.”

“They’ve been sickeningly in love since high school.” Pam glanced back at the boys. Poking fun at them did not mean she did not love the handsome couple. Kurt became a third son. Besides, they came up with the goods, though in an unorthodox manner. Grand children made growing older easier to handle.

“And happily so, mom,” Blaine smiled back as his eyes went to a large painting. Slowing, Kurt pulled up beside him.

“Come along boys?” Pam called back to them.

Picking up the pace, the two men hurried to catch up. Rising up a sumptuous staircase the sound of contemporary music caught their attention. Muffled, the party seemed to be in full swing when the approached a set of double doors. The man in a crisp black suite with a hidden earpiece nodded to Judith as if he knew her very well. A couple of silent words passed between them and then he looked at the card their driver once had. Nodding, he opening the doors revealing a sizable room with light blue walls with bright white trim. Like the other sections of the palace, statuary and paintings dotted the room.

A couple of dozen people occupied the chamber. Those in tuxedos and elegant gowns, mixed with others less formally dressed. A few wore designer jeans, sweaters or shirts. The varied crowd ranging from their late twenty into their eighties gathered in small groups chatting with drinks in their hands. A servant dressed in black walked about picking up empties and offering something fresh. Another offered finger foot from a silver tray with a white cloth on it. The tone appeared to be high spirited.

Kurt paused when he entered tugging Blaine to a stop beside him. Exchanging glances, they both recognized a few of the people for the trade papers. Kurt’s porcelain skin flushed pink. Blaine tapped the back of his hand to reassure him.

“My, I’m going to remember this evening.” Pam came to a halt when she notice her son hesitate. Posed, she looked confidently around the room.

Judith turned and rejoined her quests. “It’s just a little family affair.”

“Family affair,” Kurt attempted to keep his voice down. “That’s…”

“Don’t gap dear,” Judith warned. “You’ll appear provincial.”

“But…?” Kurt’s eye swiftly moved around the room. Two of the biggest producers of London stage talked to one another off to the right. On the other side of the room director of the latest Harry Potter play spoke to the newest break out actresses of British stage and screen.

“You’re going to catch flies,” Judith whispered to Kurt.

Blaine chuckled and then winked at his mom. The buzz excited him removing the nervousness he experienced during their journey through the halls.

“Judith,” a portly, bald middle aged gentleman called from a few yards away. Wearing a checkered suit, he held glass of wine in his right hand.

Judith’s eyes rolled causing the corner of Kurt’s lip curled up. With hope this would be interesting.

“Dicky, dear.” Judith waved. Taking Pam by the arm, the Dame meandered over to the short fellow.

Glancing at his husband, Blaine noted Kurt looked a bit pale. Leaning in, he whispered, “You alright, my love?”

Blinking, Kurt drew in a deep breath. “I’m always good with you nearby.”

“You know, on the way here, I was singing Hopelessly Devoted in my head. The words were meant for you.”

“You’re sweet.” Kurt brushed up against his lover. He knew it.

Speaking a little quieter, Blaine added, “Remember, if you get jittery let me know. We can leave.”

“I’m good, but thank you.”

“It’s all up to you.”

“Blaine, look around.”

“You’re more important than making a few business contacts.”

Kurt pulled his hand tighter about his husband’s and then a loud commotion behind him caught his attention. Spinning forty five degrees, his eyes went back to the door they had just walked through. An elderly couple strolled in with the help of canes. Casually dressed in a high fashioned manner, they glanced about. From the side of the room a younger man moved to greet them. Jerking on Blaine to get his attention, the pair watched two of Britain’s biggest stars mingled with a vociferous group crowding about the door. Kisses and hugs abounded.

“Come along, boys.” Judith wiggled her fingers at them to get their attention.

The two men regrettably released each other’s hands. For a second Kurt looked doe eyed at his husband. In return, Blaine racked finger down the back of his lover’s hand.

Watching her handsome friends draw near, Judith smiled at the gentleman she talked. “Boys, I want you to meet Dicky Sanderson, director of stage, screen and the occasional travesty. Dicky, this is Kurt and Blaine Anderson-Hummel from New York and Pam Anderson, Blaine’s mother.”

Giving Judith a speculative look, the bald man offering the boys a firm handshake and then kiss Pam’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you, especially such a stunning beauty as Mrs. Anderson.”

Pam blushed and Blaine’s eyebrows pull together. Kurt snickered.

“Dicky, you scoundrel,” Judith taps him on the shoulder.

“My dear, Dame Cummingham, you have such delightful friends.” Dicky turns to the two men. “I hope Judith has not run you astray. She has a reputation for dramatics and...”

“Dicky?” Judith objected.

The round man winked. “Come now, Judith, you came out fencing first.”

“Judith.” A young man says from behind.

Turning, Judith smiled. “Your honour?”

“My, you’re showing off tonight,” Dicky made a jab at Judith.

“Judith, it’s a pleasure as usual?” The twenty six year old man kissed the older woman on both cheeks. Sported a light grey tweed jacket and black pants, he looked at Dicky over the rim of his glasses.

Rolling her eyes, Judith smirked. “Arthur, may I introduce Kurt, Blaine and Pam.”

“Pleasure.” He offered each of them a hand.

Kurt looked the younger man up and down as if he somehow recognized him but did not know where. Blaine tapped his hand to pull his attention away.

Dicky gave Kurt an apprehensive look that made him shuffle closer to Blaine.

One of Judith’s eyebrows went up. “Arthur, Dicky seems to be in good form. Has he been cut off, yet?”

“He’s up to his tricks already?” The young man gave Dicky a look.

“Has she arrived yet?” Judith asked as he waved at someone in the crowd.

Looking over his shoulder Arthur nodded. “She’s back in her aunt’s sitting room?”

“Well, I guess we should pay our respects.” Judith’s head bobbed up and down. Glancing at her companions she indicated another set of open doors on the other side of the room.

Nervous Kurt glanced about. “Who is it we are going to meet?”

“You don’t know?” Dicky blurt out. His mouth curled up into a delicious grin.

“Know what?” Kurt seriously asked.

“An admirer?” Judith took a step back.

“Is that what you call her?” Dicky downed his wine. “My, this is going to be rich.”

“Dicky, come along, Casper was looking for you.” Arthur gave Judith a ‘you owe me’ look.

Blaine and Kurt exchanged glances as Arthur led Dicky to the other side of the room where a number of people congregated about the elderly actors. Blaine let out a puff of air. Regardless of city, people seemed the same. Dicky reminded him of a loud and antagonizing director they knew in New York.

“I apologize.” Judith looked a bit embarrassed. “Dicky gets a little much when he’s into the sauce.”

Blaine nodded. “We know the type. London is not the only city with a monopoly on interesting people.”

“True,” Judith looked to a set of doors at the far end of the room. “I guess we should go.”

Kurt half turned to face Judith. “Go where?”

Winking, Judith rolled her shoulders and took a step to the left. “Oh, do come along.”

Kurt’s eyes followed Judith as she moved into the crowd saying hello as she went. Tapping the man he loved, Kurt said, “Well, you heard her. Let’s go a meet your secret admirer.”

Together the three moved into the gathering trailing Judith. A couple of yards in front of them, the Dame swept through the crowd stopping here and there to chat. Eventually the four of them found themselves in front of a door where Judith talked to a stiff, middle aged fellow in a dark suit. The fellow stiffly greeted her even though they obviously knew one another. He looked the American’s up and down several times and then nodded.

Working her way into the next room, Judith said hello to a number of people and made introductions. It took a while but eventually they passed into another blue room with a blue couch, green chair and a lovely oak desk. An older gentleman in a dark blue suit holding a cup of tea stood next to the window. He spoke to a slightly younger lady in a pale green dress. Behind the couch two middle aged ladies wearing casual formal wear chatted with a fellow in his forties clad in a trendy sweater Kurt would die to own. A man in his seventies, wearing a dark blue blazer and slacks, sat in the green chair speaking to a woman of a similar age wearing a brown patterned jacket and white turtleneck. Their conversation seemed lively and marked by occasional laughter.

Waltzing up as if she belonged, Judith approached the couch. Behind her, Kurt hesitated. Standing in the door, he reached out to mother and son causing them to slow down. Sweating, Kurt bumped into his husband as if seeking reassurance. Pam inched back a step while placing a hand on her son’s shoulder.

“Ah, there you are, Judith. Late as usual.” The woman on the couch said as she looked up.

Stopping a respectful distance from the couch, Judith dropped into a short curtsied.

“Judith, no formalities here.” The woman glanced past the Dame. “I thought you had only one date for this evening.”

Smiling, Judith looked back at the three American’s standing just in the threshold. Waving them forward she waited until they stood a few feet away and then said, “You Highness, may I present, Blaine and Kurt Anderson-Hummel and Mrs. Anderson.”

Kurt’s heart froze. For a moment panic rose in his chest and then he felt Blaine’s hand brush against his. Refusing the urge to grasp it, he softly panted.

“Ah, yes.” Her regal woman stood and strode past Judith to greet them. “I saw the two of you in New York where you preformed the most delightful play.”

“Your highness.” Kurt almost choked on the words as he half bowed and curtsied.

“Oh, please, call me Anne,” the sister to the King of England said.

Blaine and Kurt stood there mesmerized with their hearts pounding in their chest. Pam on the other hand inclined her head while bending a knee prior to saying, “Your highness, you have to pardon my son and his husband, it’s not very often we colonials meet royalty.”

Chuckling, Anne smiled and glanced at the boys. “I happen to like the colonies. Lovely place with many interesting people.”

“You saw our play?” Blaine asked. His voice wavered ever so slightly. He suddenly blushed when he realized he had forgotten his manners.

“Yes,” Princess Anne looked to her friend. “Judith was to kind to arrange for me to sneak into your opening night.”

Neither Blaine nor Kurt could speak. Kurt felt weak in the knees and the colour drained from Blaine’s face.

“Oh, I see she didn’t tell you. Bad girl.” Patting Judith on the arm, Anne smiled. “We go back to a time when we were both much younger.”

Judith grinned. “I met Anne and Margaret after my first performance back in seventy four?”

“My dear friend told me about a pair of delightful Americans she met on a Rhine cruise who had the most outlandish plan for a remake of a great play. Masterful, is all I can say.” Princess Anne glanced at Judith and then back at Blaine and Kurt. “I hope you bring it to the West End.”

Cheeks flushing, Blaine inclined his head as he stepped a little closer. “I, we, are flattered you would have taken the time, your highness. At present we’re preparing for a two year run on Broadway.”

“This time, I walk through the front door.” Anne peered at Judith and then looked back to the man in the sweater. “Rob, will you please arrange it. Opening night, box seats. You know, the usual stuff.”

The man inclined his head making a note in a small book his pull from a pocket.

“You highness?” Kurt’s voice fluttered. “You honour us.”

“Judith, do instruct them this is not a formal affair but rather a gathering of friends.” Anne nodded to a servant that had entered the room. He inclined his head and turned around.

Sighing, Judith, shook her head. “Anne, you know how improper this is.”

“Indeed but let’s have some fun like in the good old days.” Princess Anne reached out touched Pam’s arm. “Come and sit with me.”

Beaming, Blaine’s mother inclined her head and followed the princess to the couch. She shot her son a triumphant gaze.

“You have to be proud, Mrs. Anderson. You son and his partner have wonderful voices. Such harmonies.” Anne glanced at the young men.

“They certainly like to sing, your highness.” Pam’s face suddenly turned a shade of red. Quickly glancing at Judith and then back to Princess Anne she asked, “May I be informal?”

“By all means.” Anne settled on the couch as the servant returned with a tray holding crystal stemware containing wine. He offered it to her highness first, then Mrs. Anderson. Judith and then finally the boys.

“Then, please call me Pam.” She blushed.


	38. London Part 4

A tremor ran up an old man’s back. Sad eyes looked up at a dead man’s passive face. The difference between what he looked at in his mind and reality had mark differences. In one place his husband’s wrinkled face looked at peace. In the other, youthful beauty pulled at the heart. Regardless of time, the arrival of his young husband man in London felt a bit off. Somehow, his younger self did something that made old Blaine feel he had become a spectator within his own remembrances. The lucidity of what he saw amazed him because aging sucked. At some point in his late eighties he began to forget. Pictures became things to scratch the head about. Numerous awards loomed within ebbing mists.

London? An old man had to smile. The party in Kensington went on for hours. Leaving shortly before sunrise, three American’s slept the day away. Kurt and Blaine curled up in one another’s arms embalmed with enough alcohol to make sleeping easy. The warmth of their hearts sustained them into the evening when they got together with Pam for a quiet family dinner. Nursing handovers, the two young men went to bed early.

Kurt yawned and rolled over pulling the quilt with him. A hand reached out finding something he did not expect – a knee. Blinking, he stared up at Blaine leaning against the headboard with a pile of pillows behind his back. Yawning again, he asked, “How long have you been up?”

Smiling, Blaine put his tablet down on his lap rubbed a finger along Kurt’s hand. It lay where his crotch would have been. “About half an hour.”

“You should have waken me.”

“Na, I’ve got the cutest video of you sleeping.”

Pulling himself upright, Kurt gave his husband a strange look.

Patting Kurt’s hand, Blaine recognized the discomfort in his husband’s eyes. Ever since the horror of the trial, he disliked having his picture taken. Blaine knew the man he loved had to get over this little phobia. After all he worked in the entertainment industry. Winking, he said, “Snuggle up and take a look.”

Rolling his eyes, a shiver ran up Kurt’s spine. Pushing pillows up against his husband, Kurt tugged the quilt up over his naked chest. The air felt chilled. Leaning against Blaine’s shoulder he fought with his emotions. Part of him wanted to hide. Stubborn need to love and heal, forced him to face the things holding him back.

Picking the tablet up, Blaine tapped an icon causing to program load. Swiping through a number of files, he tapped on one and turned the device so they could both see. A sleeping Kurt lay on his stomach with his back exposed. Blaine plucked a flower from the bedside table and lightly ran it up and down the sleeping man’s back. Watching him twitched please the playful tormentor.

 

“You’re so gorgeous when you sleep,” Blaine said in a soft, loving tone. “Over the years, I spent many hours watching you. This morning you looked abnormally adorable.”

“I do look at peace.” Kurt reached out and pulled the tablet toward him. “Except that flower.”

An evil smile stretched Blaine’s lips. “Yes, you do. I haven’t seen you sleep like this for months. I wanted a record of the moment the man I love came back to me.”

“I never left.’

“No and yes. The man in that image is the one I married. The man I have been sleeping with for the past few month quaked in my arms.” Blaine flicked a finger against the edge of the tablet. “This weekend I got my husband back. I have never been happier and I never want to let go.”

Drawing in a shaky breath, Kurt looked up at the man he loved. “Was it that hard?”

“Honestly, yes.” Blaine put the tablet on the side table and wrapped an arm around Kurt pulling him close. “And before you say anything, Kurt I never stopped loving you. I never stopped worrying about you. I never wanted to leave…”

“You wanted to…” Kurt pulled in a breath and bit his tongue.

Blaine’s eyes rolled as deep sorrow gripped him. “One of my lowest moments for which I will be forever seeking forgiveness from the most loving and moral man I have ever met.”

“Moral?”

“I said that to your father once. He said you got it from your mother.”

Kurt smiled and then pushed his head into his husband’s arm.

Stroking Kurt’s hair, Blaine said in a low voice, “Sorry, my love.”

“There is nothing to be sorry about. I’ll always miss her. Which child would not? But I have you in my life and two wonderful children. She goes on.”

“A beautiful sentiment.”

Smiling, Kurt did not know what to say. The emotions radiating from his husband revealed the devotion of a man who once yelled at him demanding an end to it all. Over the long months of spirally darkness, Kurt rarely considered the impact on those about him. For most of it he did what he had to do and not much more. He now recognized the emergency intervention helped more than he thought.

Leaning forward, Blaine kissed his husband on the head.

“I have so much more I need you to forgive me for.” Kurt pulled himself up so his head was level with his husband.

Touching his husband’s face Blaine’s hesitated. “Kurt for much of it, you were not yourself. I had…”

“Blaine that’s exactly it…I wasn’t myself.”

Blaine started to say something and then the alarm buzzed. H growled and slapped it. “I think I understand better now. Back then, how could I have been able to know what you faced? I was not the one…”

“Who was raped?”

Blaine shuddered. Agony flashed across his face. Stupid.

“Drugged, sodomized….raped, Blaine!” Kurt buried his head into the quilt. He sounded angry.

Holding his husband, tighter Blaine felt his chest tighten. His mind fumbled with a response.

“There is no other word for it. Blunt, nasty and honest.” Kurt’s head came up suddenly as he shifted so he looked into Blaine’s handsome, unshaven face. “But, I’m here with you and that what’s counts.”

Holding back a tear, Blaine felt awful. “Kurt, I never…”

Sensing his lover’s distress, Kurt poked one of Blaine’s nipples. “I’m yours forever and don’t you ever forget that.”

“I know, my love.” Blaine’s tone started off barely audible. “I may never fully understand what it is you felt but even when I was furious with you, I loved you. That FBI man gave me the shake I needed. Now, I’m giving you the love and compassion you need...deserve. We’re married, Mr. Kurt Anderson-Hummel. For better or worse, we…are…married.”

The two men fell into one another’s arms kissing. When they pulled away, Kurt ran a finger down his husband’s hairy chest headed for an area south of the belly button. Blaine leaned into him pressing his body upon his husband’s. Arms encircled the handsome fellow as fingers began to play. Slowly Kurt rolled over and became tangled in the sheets. Bursting into laughter his head fell onto Blaine’s chest.

Pulling at the sheets engulfing his lover, Blaine also laughed. Suddenly he grabbed a pillow and flung it at his husband. Hitting him in the neck, he wound up and swung again. One of Kurt’s arms came up to defend himself. To his surprise Blaine fell upon him pinning him with a deep, thorough kiss. A hand pressed down under the blankets where fingers wrapped around a flaccid love muscle. Suddenly the alarm started beeping, again.

Frowning Kurt glanced at the device and sighed. “I guess that means no morning delight?”

“Waking up with you is all the delight I need, Mr. Anderson-Hummel.” Blaine beamed. He pulled his hand away.

“Okay, you can go.” Kurt started to roll over.

Catching Kurt, Blaine asked, “Would you come with me today. Having you there will…”

Fingers pressed against Blaine’s lips, Kurt kissed the left cheek. “Love, I wouldn’t miss it but what of you mother?”

A little over an hour later, a car waited outside the hotel. Pam met the boys in the hotel café for a quick bite and a coffee. A short time later two married men and a mother road through the busy streets of London headed for the music hall. The morning rush hour in London looked very much like the mess of New York. The only real difference had to do with the fact they drove on the wrong side of the street. People zig zagged in and out of traffic, sometimes a little too dangerously. The driver took it all in stride with the usual British stiff upper lip.

Something more substantial in the way of breakfast waited them at the Royal Festival Hall where the technical crew had been working for a couple of hours already. Orchestra and choir of one hundred warmed up while sound checks went on all around. A huge movie screen filled the space above the choir. A gleaming, full sized grand piano angled so that the person playing it could see the screen. Ang Lee stood off to the side talking to the sound and film editors. The director-producer did not look happy.

Holding a coffee in one hand and a plate with two muffins on it with a small amount of fruit in the other, Kurt looked around as they walked down the aisle. Pam strolled behind him carrying a large coffee and something to eat.

Blaine followed behind stuffing his face with a croissant. Placing a hand on Kurt’s arm, he winked at him. “I have to run. Make yourselves comfortable.”

“Go and play dear, we’ll be right here.” Pam patted her son on the shoulder.

Giving his mother a hug, Blaine blew Kurt a kiss. “I hope you don’t get too bored.”

“Are you kidding,” Pam grinned. “This is exciting. I got drunk with a princess and now I’m get to lounge about watching my son doing something he loves.”

“You watched Kurt and I?” Blaine said with a straight face then he impishly grinned followed by a wink.

Kurt choked and his mother patted Blaine on the cheek. “Now, run off and play. Try to keep your mind on your work. Those pants don’t hide much.”

Blaine blushed and then he leaned in kissing his husband. “Oh, when we get started keep your voices down. The microphones are sensitive.”

“We’ll try.” Pam smirked.

Hugging his mom, Blaine bounded down to the stage. Ang noticed him and signalled him to join the discussion.

Watching his husband joyful motions, Kurt moved to one side as a young man passed by going the opposite direction. “This place is amazing.”

“I bet you would love to sing here.” Pam commented as she looked about and then indicated the mass of empty seats three dozen rows back from the front. A large number of people and equipment occupied spaces closer to the stage. “How about we sit over here. We’ll be out of the way.”

“Okay.” Kurt let Pam step in first. She moved in four seats and then sat.

“Blaine is in his element. Look at him up there.” Pam put her coffee on the floor and rested the plate bowl of fruit with yogurt on her lap. “He’s like a little boy.”

“Yes, he was. Very much an agile, playful boy,” Kurt absently stated in a dreaming tone.

Giving her son-in-law a look Pam started to say something and then just shook her head.

“This is a dream come true.” Kurt picked at a muffin. “His career is going to explode.”

Pam beamed and then bit into juicy strawberry. “Humm, good. How are you feeling?”

Picking the top off of one of his banana muffins Kurt glanced at his mother-in-law. “Amazingly well now that I’ve spent some time under a specialist.”

Pam blinked. “I look at the two of you and, to be honest. I’m jealous.”

“Oh?”

“You’re, love sick puppies. It’s wonderful. I wish…well…I loved a man like that once. In some ways I still do.”

“Pam, you will find someone again.”

“I don’t know if I want to.”

“Why?”

“Daniel, when I met him, treated me like a queen. We were like the two of you. Then work got in the way. He travelled everywhere and we…well…fell out of love. By then we had kids.” Pam suddenly turned to Kurt. “Don’t let that happen to the two of you. Being apart is good but not for long periods of time. Daniel wandered. Keep your hand in his Kurt. You’re stronger than he is. He will never admit it, at least to me, but I see his insecurities. It played off…”

“Pam, I know. If I had been in his shoes…” Kurt’s voice trialed away. The colour drained from his face.

“Kurt?”

“Pam, you can’t possibly know what…”

Placing a hand on Kurt’s shoulder, in a strong, composed tone, she admitted, “Kurt, I was raped.”

The muffin fell from Kurt’s hand and bounced to the floor. Staring, slack jawed, a tears balled up in his eyes. All sorts of emotions exploded upon his face. Chandler laughed and that horrible shudder rolled up his back. The mind twisted as the darkness returned. Then he saw a hand separating the seas of his despair. Blaine stood there bathed in light reaching out for him. It took some effort to reach those fingers and when flesh touched flesh the darkness exploded in a puff. The light of a new day engulfed both men as one husband pulled the other into his waiting arms.

Patting the young man’s hand, Pam looked to her son’s lover. Shocked blue eyes stared back. Her lower lip pushed out and rolled up onto the one above it. Closing her eyes she drew in a breath and then silently said, “Kurt, it was a long time ago. Believe me, you get over it with time. You may never forget, but you will heal.”

“Does Blaine now?”

“No.”

“Oh, Pam…how…can I…”

“Kurt, I’m telling you so that you know you are not alone. I love you as I love my son. I have been wanting to tell you for weeks now, but you weren’t ready.”

“Is that why you came to London?”

“No, but here and now, the time is right. You’ve climbed out of the mire, my dear boy. It’s time for you to get on with your life and put it all behind you.”

Breathing deeply, Kurt suddenly throw his arms around the woman sitting beside him. Burying his head into her shoulder, he shook. She shook. Hugging each other, food slipped from their plates to the floor. Every mother knew how to multitask. Even as they held one another, both managed to salvage some of their breakfast. Somewhere a tear rolled down an old man’s cheek onto a dead man’s skin.

At the same time, on stage, the mesh mash of music faded to a number of words. Then the light dimmed and a flickering light disrupted the two people hugging. Violins pulled on soft, simple cords followed by the low hum of deep baritones in the background. An image projected on the screen behind the musicians. Moving his baton following the silent motions of the actors, seventeen eighties New Zealand came to life. Men in bright red uniforms trudged through thick forest. Some held their rifles at the ready and other had them swung over their backs. Three woman with five children walked along within the middle of group accompanied by a portly gentlemen and four young men in period costume. Behind them sweaty men carried trunks, large bails and crates from long boats pushed up onto the beach. Exiting the trees, the party climbed up a slope and came face to face with a wooden wall. Behind them three British frigates and a man-of-war sat at anchor.

Instrument and voice filled an otherwise silent theatre. Kurt and Pam watched and listened. Blaine stood of to the side with the director. Once in a while he glance out into the audience of two. Eventually, he stepped down from the stage and approached those he loved from the far side of along row of seats.

“Are you two, alright?” Blaine whispered as he sat down beside his mother. A few ceiling lights and the floor lights produced a dull gloom within the huge auditorium.

Keeping her voice down, Pam lied, “Kurt got a bit emotional.”

Brow curling up, Blaine gave his mother a serious look and then he glanced to his husband. His hand reached across his mother’s chest. “We can go?”

Kurt’s hand instinctively found the one offered to him. “Blaine, I’m alright. Your music made me think.”

Leaning closer, concern etched lines in Blaine’s brow. “Kurt?”

“Blaine, seriously, I feel safe and you’re working.” Kurt let out a sigh.

“This is sweet, boys, but you’re squishing my boobs.” Pam kept a straight face.

Quickly pulling back, Blaine’s quietly sputtered, “Oh, sorry, mom.”

Stifling a laugh, Pam patted her son on his arm. “They were your favourite toys when you were a baby.”

Flushing red, Blaine then glanced away with an attentive look on his face. It crumbled into a frown.

Kurt smirked and then said in a hushed voice, “What’s going on?”

Turning toward the stage Blaine answered, “The editor wanted a proper sound test. When we get going, you’ll need to keep silent.”

“Okay.” Pam stared at her son.

Blaine looked concerned. “What?”

Pam smiled. “You wrote this?”

“Three hours worth.” Blaine beamed.

“It’s like Gilbert and Sullivan or even Mozart.” Her face revealed her thought patterns.

Her son’s head pulled back. “Mom? Gilbert and Sullivan?”

“More like Puccini.” Kurt corrected.

Pam gave Kurt an odd look. Popping a berry in her mouth she shrugged. “All I know is its beautiful.”

Lowering his head to the right, Blaine blushed. “Thanks, mom.”

Kurt looked passed Pam at his husband. “With the orchestra and choir, it’s magnificent, honey.”

“With luck, we’ll only need two or three takes. It’s about seven minutes long. If Ang and the sound editor are happy there is one piece left. Then we get two days in London before flying home.” Blaine paused. “Oh, Ang is flipping the bill for your flights back. First class. And your hotel, mom.”

“Blaine!” Pam fought to keep her voice down.

“Mom, he wants to and I am not going to argue with him. He has also asked me to invite the two of you to join us for dinner tonight and the crew party on Wednesday.” Blaine cocked an ear toward the stage. His face turned suddenly serious. “That was awful. Will you excuse me?”

Getting up, Blaine jogged down toward the stage where the conductor brought the orchestra to a halt. Ang rose from his seat to meet with Blaine. The three of them spoke and then the director signaled for the film to roll back.

“I heard nothing out of place.” Pam looked puzzled.

“Someone hit a series of sour notes.” Kurt told her.

“I guess you would know.”

“Pam, are you going to tell him?” Kurt had a serious look on his face. Surrounded by dim light, he gazed at his mother-in-law. His head turned and his eyes fell on Blaine. Half smiling, he added, “You do owe it to him. He has suffered, well, not like myself, but his pain is real. How this all rolled out tore at his heart. He is the best thing to come into my life next to our children.”

Sighing, she looked at Kurt and drew in a deep breath. “I guess, I’ll have to.”

“It’ll upset him but I think it will help him as it has helped me. I will be there if you want me to?”

Nodding, Pam grinned at Kurt. “We’ll see but for now let’s keep it to ourselves.”

“But…”

Linking her fingers with his, Pam squeezed. They stared at each other for a long moment and then she said, “I promise you. I’ll tell him but let’s get past the present pain before I add to it.”

Pulling his lips in, Kurt nodded his agreement even as his heart filled with grief. His fingers moved about in Pam’s. Knowing someone really understood made him feel so much better.

The two sat in silence nibbling on what remained on their plates holding hands. Kurt found solace in her touch and her honesty. As shocking as it had been, the news actually made him feel better. Staring at his mother-in-law he felt apprehensive. A few times he thought she would ripe him a new one but, in this place and time, he felt terribly close to her.

On stage the opening sequence repeated several times with Blaine there beside Ang and the sound editor. An hour and a half later, the director called for a break. Putting their instruments down the orchestra and the choir moved about or just sat talking. Sitting behind the piano Blaine flipped sheet music making notes, From off stage, a well-built technician walked up to him. Sitting on the bench, he chit chatted and then wrapped an arm about the composer. In that instant, Blaine held his hand out to the audience. Wiggling his fingers, he beaconed the observers to the stage.

One eye brow raised, Kurt studied the odd scene. Colour drained from his face. Fingers squeezed his. The two glanced at one another and then Pam said, “Come on, let’s go save my son.”

“He’s damned cute.” Kurt admitted as he rose to his feet. “I’d chase him too.”

“You have nothing to worry about in that department. He’s dotes on you.” She tapped Kurt on the arm with her free hand.

Walking down the aisle, the two stepped up onto the stage and toward the piano where a young, strong man draped himself over Blaine. The muscular man’s hand rubbed the center of Kurt’s husband’s back. The sight boiled Kurt’s blood but Pam’s hand on his brought calm. Surprisingly, the amorous twenty odd year old took no notice but Blaine did. Without hesitation the composer removed himself from the technician’s grip. Turning, he rose to his feet to hug and kiss his mother. Remaining on the bench, the interloper watched.

The moment he let his mother go, Blaine took Kurt in his arms. Soundly kissing his husband, he ensured the flirty technician saw the love in his eyes and ring on his finger for another time. The buff man scowled and started checking microphones.

Concerned, Kurt’s eyes studied the shapely man. “Who was that?”

“Jerry, he’s the one whose been chasing me since I got here.” Blaine rubbed his husband’s hand.

“Big boy.”

“Not like you.”

“Oh?”

Blaine winked.

“Boys, keep it PG. We have company,” Pam commented. She pointed to the man walking toward them with the help of a cane.

Unwrapping himself from the man he loved, Blaine’s right hand naturally slipped into Kurt’s left. When the famous director got close enough, Blaine said, “Ang, I would like you to meet my husband, Kurt.”

“At last.” The director shifted his cane and offered his hand. “Our young musical genius here has said nothing but good things about you. He showed me a video of you on stage. You have excellent voice, young man.”

“Thank you.” Kurt nervously beamed. Colour rose in his porcelain skin.

“And this is my mother, Pam,” Blaine smiled.

“A pleasure.” Ang shook her hand. “You have a talented son.”

“I’ve known for a long time.” Pam said to the director. She smiled at her son placing a hand on his shoulder. “He’s always wanted to be the center of the crowd.”

Nodding, Ang responded. “Well, he certainly caught my attention. Did he tell you, both of you, are invited to dinner tonight and wrap up party.”

“He sort of mentioned it.” Pam winked at her son.

Ang nodded and then looked at Blaine. “He has quite a career ahead of him and a place in my next movie.”

“Thank you, Ang.” The invitation caused Blaine by surprise. He blushed.

“One more piece and that’s a wrap,” Ang called out to the entire cast. “If we get this done by noon, the drinks are on me…all of you.”

A cheer rose from the crew and musicians.

Kurt gave his husband a sad look. “I guess we should go back to our seats.”

Having Kurt here meant more to Blaine than his husband suspected. Turning to the frolicsome technician, the composer asked, “Jerry, could you please get a couple of stools and place them beside the piano.”

Frowning, muscular Jerry fulfilled the request. Placing two tall stools between the piano and the edge of the stage a couple of yards away he went back to work.

“What’s up?” Kurt looked apprehensively at the director.

“Don’t look at me. Your husband’s singing not me.” Ang smiled and the turned about to speak to the head sound technician.

Taking his cue from the director, the conductor rapped his stick on the music stand. Moving chairs, instruments warming up and the sound of human harmony echoed about the huge auditorium.

“Take a seat.” Blaine indicated the stools as he sat on the piano bench.

Tugging the stools closer to the piano, Kurt waited for Pam to sit. Staring at the man he loved he whispered, “Blaine?”

Running his fingers over the keys, Blaine blew a kiss at his husband. Turning sheet music, Blaine softly announced, “Kurt, I wrote this for you that last day of summer when we went back to opposing schools.”

Kurt gasped. The two of them sat across from one another. Blaine wore his Warbler’s blazer and tie. He looked so cute. Playfully bantering back and forth, the specter of competing against one another became a joke. When they parted, Kurt felt sad.

Noting the sentiment in Kurt’s eyes, Pam took her son-in-law’s hand. About them the light faded and a scene flickered at the back of the stage. A woman sat by a pond with a handsome young man walked up behind her. Strings softly drew long cords following the main theme heard throughout the movie. A number of bars later the choir and wind instruments joined in. The sound rose in volume and then died away again. At that point Blaine’s fingers danced across the keys bringing depth to the music. Allowing the pianist to set the pace, the conductor followed the changing notes. Soft at first, Blaine’s voice edged into the music gaining strength.

_T_ _here comes a time in life,_  
_When you know,_  
_When you are happy._

 _There are times in life._  
_When you wonder,_  
_You stop and pray._

 _Today, I sat there and wondered,_  
_I know where my heart lies,_  
_But do you feel the same._

His eyes locked on the man he loved, the tone of Blaine’s voice rose in volume and emotion. Thick, seductive lips spread into a smile as the orchestra took up the melody. On the screen the young at odd couple stared at one another with longing eyes.

 _When I stand in the window,_  
_I look at you,_  
_I dream beautiful things._

 _Today, I sat there and wondered,_  
_We both have to face hardship,_  
_We both have to do what we must._

 _I watch you feeling the agony within,_  
_I know I am in love,_  
_I know I want no other._

Blaine allowed his voice to fall away as the choir took up complicated cords. Strings rose in crescendo aid by various wind instruments. They played the general theme of the movie for a number of bars following the subtle scene above them.

At the appointed moment piano joined in as the musicians died away. Great sentiment exploded within Blaine’s throat as a tear slid down his cheek.

 _Still, I wonder,_  
_Are the feelings the same,_  
_Or is there something hidden._

 _I desire no one else,_  
_The touch, the feel and the longing,_  
_You are the one I have come to love._

 _I sneak a peek as you go through your day,_  
_I see your innocence inside,_  
_I see the real you and fall even further._

Blaine’s voice slowly faded away as the images above him drifted into mists of a growing storm.

 _As god is my witness, you are my all_  
_I love you._  
_With all my heart, I love you._


	39. Afternoon in the Park

Rays of warm sun cast long lines along the floor and onto then piano. Books and compact discs crammed shelves installed on either side of the large paintings flanking the fire place. The wall beside the French doors to the dining room had been extended eight inches. A floor to ceiling glass cabinet with thick sparkling shelves highlighted by bright halogen light filled the space to the windows. Each shelf contained mementos of their lives together with room for more. Blaine favoured colourful birds and animals sculptured from shimmering crystal. Kurt liked ceramic and stone. The bright sunshine did not require the use of the newly installed ceiling lighting.

Sprawled out on the couch, Blaine leaned up against the man he loved. Wearing shorts, no shoes and a t-shirt, he had a folded entertainment section of the New York Times in his hands. Fussy hair went everywhere. Humming to himself, moments like this made life worth it. The hectic battle of caring for the twins and getting their production off the ground kept him blissful engaged. Their lives had returned to normal making it feel as the unfortunate incident of two years ago no longer existed.

One leg up and pressed into the back of the couch, Kurt wore baggy but trendy pants and sweater with no shoes. His arms wrapped about his husband, he rested his chin on the top of Blaine’s mop. One of his hands rested on his lover’s chest and the other absently played with all his enduring curls. For the past few weeks he felt normal. London became a fond memory of redemption not only for his life with Blaine but for his heart. The pain faded away to a faint nuisance that reared its ugliness less and less. The addition of another member of their odd family made him so happy. Kenneth, a beautiful and fat baby boy kept Rachel busy. Barbara looked at her little brother with mysticism. The twins looked upon their new half-brother with joy. They cooed and tried to help Rachel as best they could. 

Unfortunately, the birth had not been easy on Rachel. The doctors told her and Jesse she would not be able to have any more children. While it stung, for the parents of their odd modern family, four kids made Rachel more than happy. Taking time off from the Broadway, she enjoyed being pampered but Broadway filled her heart.

The pull of the stage and the emotions projected from the audience tugged at both of them. My Fair Fellow opened up to popular praise the last week of January. Taking the lead rolls, the two men basked in the standing ovation of the opening night. From the stage they stared up to see a British royal, Judith and several of their McKinley friends spread out over three private boxes. Cooper sat front row center with his pregnant wife Inga, Pam, Carole and Burt. The party after proved long and interesting. Hounded by the press, Princess Anne journeyed back stage to congratulate the cast. Breaking with tradition she hugged the two actors she had met months before. It made for the front page of the New York Times entertainment section. Being splashed across the news broadcasts the next day brought renew notoriety and a few protests from the hard right. 

Other than their breathing and the occasional rustling of paper, not a sound could be heard. The table in front of the couch looked like the kids had breakfast there. The plates sported the remains of Blaine’s homemade blueberry pancakes and Kurt’s banana muffins. A bowl contained the few remaining berries. Half a dozen trade magazines, a pad of paper with a pen and two, huge coffee mugs rounded out the mess. A perfect morning, after taking the kids to kindergarten they hurried home for some ‘we’ time. The silence created sensual bliss.

Sitting higher on the couch than his husband, Kurt could see out the arching window. Winter had not lasted as long as forecasted. Warms days returned at the end of February. A surprise and short lived dump of snow blamed on Canada shocked everyone in early March. Lasting a couple of days, a series of spring storms rolled in from the west and up the coast ever since melting everything. A couple of days ago the skies parted and that wonderful yellow ball showed itself. The city went crazy. 

The paper ruffled. Flipping the folded newsprint over, Blaine continued ready the lengthy article. Kurt gleamed a few words here or there but he waited for the Cole’s notes version. The lazy morning felt good. The understudies took the lead until Friday giving the boys a break from the grueling schedule. Lessons learned during the years in Glee taught them share the public eye. The two young actors filling in for them showed great promise at NYADA and NYU. Supporting the up and coming became an important part of their professional lives. 

Stretching for the table, Kurt’s fingers gripped the handle of a mug. Blaine effortlessly flowed with him even as he read. Lifting the half empty cup to his lips he made a face. “Cold.”

Blaine allowed the paper to droop to his knees. “I’ll get us new ones.”

“Na. The folly of enjoying a peaceful morning.”

“Yeah.”

“We could have stopped for breakfast. George’s wouldn’t have been busy.”

“And miss the opportunity for the breakfast of champions.”

“Humm…it was fun.”

“Invigorating.” Blaine rubbed his lover’s leg. “They’re still writing favourably.”

Gulping down the rest of his chilled coffee, Kurt put the mug down. “I guess that proves we’re not a flash in the pan.”

“We still need to pass the three month threshold.”

“True. The novelty may wear off.” Kurt sighed. 

“Kurt, we’ll make it.”

“It’s a fickle business.”

“Life if fickle. You’re fickle.”

“Me?” Kurt objected. He lightly cuffed the man he loved on the arm.

“Damned right you are.” Blaine grinned. “You remember the flowers you gave me before West Side Story.”

“Yeah. You deserved them.”

“And it appeased yourself.”

“Blaine?”

“Kurt?”

“That was a long time ago, but yes, my ego was a bit bruised.”

“It was so cute and so perfect. I was really nervous about it. You had your hopes set on the lead and along come this charming, boy with glued down hair to steal it out from under you without even trying.”

“That sweet boy had my heart.”

“Ditto.”

Kurt shifted behind his husband. “Okay, what’s on your mind?”

“Honestly nothing.”

“Right?”

“Okay, maybe, I’ve been thinking of us back then. We’ve come a long way.”

“Yes we have and before you say it, I’m feeling fine.” Kurt licked the back of Blaine’s ear. “Is the premiere date set?”

Rubbing Kurt’s knee, Blaine bent backward looking up at husband. “July tenth in Las Angeles.”

“It’s exciting, our first red carpet.”

“With you holding my hand, everyone will be jealous.”

“I would think so. You killed it. When do I get to hear the rest of your private works?”

“I’m saving them for special occasions and to sooth the savage Kurt after a fight.” Blaine beamed and the kissed Kurt’s hand.

Kurt frowned. “Really?”

“Really.” Blaine playfully bobbed his head back and forth so that his fussy hair tickled his husband. “Why don’t we go pick up the kids and make an afternoon of it.”

Trying to ignore the piles of hair, Kurt turned his head to the window. “It’s a beautiful day out there. We can take them down to the playground.” 

“Right, lets clean up and then we can go pick up our little dreams.” Blaine pulled himself free of his husband and sat up. 

Shortly after lunch they extracted their excited children from the kindergarten. When they got to the park, the children took off. Running out onto the grass the twins chased one another. Letting them gain some distance the two adults ran after them. Pretending not to catch them, Kurt finally snagged Kate and lifted her into the air twirling her around. She yelled in delight. Alex did not want to be picked up thus Blaine drew him into a big huge. As he did one parent eyed a man standing off to one side watching with a disapproving look. Noting the person’s appearance, he ignored the reaction. Getting stares became part of life. Time and experience taught both husband’s there would always be people who think only a man and a woman should raise children. 

Herding the twins to the playground, the parents joyfully frolicked with their offspring. The closer the got, the louder the screams of other children began. Suddenly a boy. about the same age. roared up over the bank to hug Alex. Ahead of her brother, Kate wheeled about and ran toward Mark. A woman in her late twenties wearing blue jeans and a light brown jacket marched up over the slope behind the little boy. She smiled.

“Janice,” Kurt called to her, waving.

“Kurt, Blaine,” the woman called back from the top of the small rise. “Hey, you got a day off?”

“Yeah and a beautiful day it is.” Blaine had his jacket undone. Watched the three children run down to the playground the joined half a dozen other kids played under the watchful eye of their parents. 

“They’ll manage to find a mud puddle.” Janice’s eyes followed the three children. She walked along the grass following.

“Children will find any sort of mess.” Kurt strolled up the slope. Below the three kids joined others in a noisy mash. He waved to one of the other parents.

Blaine smiled. The boys met Janice in the park two year ago. She lived in Soho. Her husband had a comfortable job but everyone in New York could use a little more money. Kurt and Blaine paid Janice twenty five dollars an hour to watch the twins. Over time the two families had become good friends and often visited one another.

“Donald’s still working on the same project?” Kurt watched the twins interact with the other kids. Everything went nicely for the moment. Kate inherited her mother’s temper. It could ignite at any moment. 

“Yes, it’s been stressful but he’ll be home on Friday. He won’t be on the road so much when it’s done.” Janice’s hand whacked against the metal bar of the play apparatus. Mark and Kate sat close to the center while Alex and a couple of other boys used their feet to get it to slowly move.

“When he gets home, why don’t the two of you come over for dinner? Then we could take Mark and let you two have some fun.” Kurt suggested.

“Thank you. I’ll let you know what night is good.” Janice pushed the spinning device. “How’s the play?”

“Doing amazingly well.” Kurt replied. “We’re still selling out and the reviews are good.”

Nodding, Janice looked to the kids. “If you two want to get a coffee, I can watch our little treasures for a while.”

“I’ll stay Janice. Go with Blaine and have a break.” Kurt glanced at his husband and nodded. “The usual honey.”

Janice shrugged and turned to Blaine. Not a pretty woman and a little plump she had a wonderful manner. She loved children and cherished the twins. 

“Sugar cookie, or chocolate?” Blaine inquired.

“Sugar.” Kurt smiled and then turned her attention back to the kids. 

Chatting, Janice and Blaine walked away under the trees. Fifteen minutes later they returned with coffees and treats. They sat nearby while the kids gobbled down the fruity muffins chatting with Janice. The adults played with the kids until Janice announced she had to leave. The twins did not like to see Mark depart but when they hit the grass, Alex tore off first with Kate right behind her. 

“This has been fun,” Blaine commented as he watched the children running across the field toward the river. 

“Hey, not that far. Wait for us.” Kurt yelled after the twins. They both understood the rules and slowed down. 

“They’re full of energy today.” Being with his happy family made Blaine feel at ease. 

“They’ll sleep and perhaps?” Evil grin. 

“Yes, perhaps.” Kurt winked at his husband. About twenty feet away, the twins ran around in circles playing their private form of tag waiting for their parents caught up. 

Strolling over to the kids Blaine held his hand out to one of the twins. Kate’s tiny hand slid into his. Looking down at his daughter he asked, “Are you having fun?”

“Yes, daddy,” Kate peered up at her father.

“And you, Alex,” Kurt inquired of his son.

“Can we get some ice cream?” the boy asked.

“Can we?” Kate butt in. 

“On the way home,” Kurt nodded.

Together they strolled toward the railing where the park gave way to the Hudson River. Other people walked here and there taking advantage of a stunning day. At the river’s edge, the children hung over the lower edge staring at the water. Kurt peered over with them while Blaine stood with his back to the railing looking out at the trees filled with bright white and pink blooms. He loved the time of year because everything seemed to come back to life. Even though he loved New York, he missed wide open spaces.

Kate pointed at a log bashing up against the cement wall. With a kid on each side of him Kurt weaved a colour tale Blaine knew he could never match. His mind worked in the oddest way at times. One husband often suggested to the other that he should write children’s books. Kurt toyed around with the idea of writing something down but it never went much further than his tablet. 

When he finished twisting a short web about miniature pirates, Kurt let the kids run. Their attention spans had not developed into longevity just yet. The two balls of energy needed to empty their ample batteries. 

“I hope they slow down?” Blaine chuckled as if he knew the answer already. 

Leaning over the railing watching the water, Kurt’s brow furrowed and then turned and leaned against the railing. “The river level seems higher than usual.”

“It’s spring runoff.” Blaine explained. He watched the kids running about a few yards away on the grass. 

“It’s damned close to the high tide mark.” Kurt studied it with a certain amount of worry. “World sea levels continued to rise.” 

“Kurt?” Blaine gave his partner a speculative look. The cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Sorry.” He looked to the kids. They promised not to use such language about the kids.

Pulling the mobile device from his pocket, one of Blaine’s eyebrows went up. Tapping the pickup, he said, “Hey, long time no hear.”

Frowning, Kurt gave his partner a ‘who’ look. Kate squealed and his eyes went to the children. Alex had a stick in his hand chasing his sister about. 

Blaine responded to his lover’s gaze by holding a finger up as if to say ‘one second’. He said to the person on the other end. “We’re in Battery Park with the kids.”

“Alex, don’t you hit your sister,” Kurt called to the twins. The two of them paused and then carried on. His eyes went to Blaine giving him a curious look.

“Okay, we’ll see you at the Jewish Museum in what, half an hour?” Blaine paused as if listening to the person on the other end. 

“Alex, what did I tell you?” Kurt called to his son. The little boy stopped and pouted. Kate egged him on and it started up all over again. Kurt rolled his eyes.

Looking that way, Blaine made a face but said into the phone, “Right, see you then.”

“Who was that?” Kurt stepped onto the grass.

Shrugging, Blaine absently stroked his husband’s arm. “Mercedes.”

“Wow!” Husband turned to husband. “What’s it been, three years?”

“About.” Blaine’s brow furrowed. He stepped toward his children. “Alex, leave you sister alone.”

Skidding to in his tracks Alex almost fell on his ass. Spinning around Kate laughed and the chase continued.

“Kids will be kids.” Kurt mocked. At that point, Alex wacked his sister and she started to cry. 

“Alexander, come here!” Blaine said in his serious father tone. The boy dropped the stick and slowly walked toward his father.

Trotting over to Kate, Kurt took her in his arms. The little girl sobbed for a few seconds.

Crouching down, Blaine gave his son a sideways look. “Was that nice, Alexander?”

“No, daddy,” the boy responded in a soft voice. The formal word meant trouble.

Putting a hand on Alex’s shoulder Blaine remembered hitting his brother a number of times with things harder than sticks. “Are you going to apologize to your sister?”

“Yes, daddy.” Alex lowered his head and walked over to his sister being comforted by Daddy K. Impulsively he threw his arms about his sister. The kids hugged for a moment and then were off running again. 

Shaking his head, Kurt glanced at Blaine who made a face. Standing, he strolled over to his husband. “What did she wanted?”

Watching the twins Blaine replied, “She’s in town for a couple of days.”

“Great.” Kurt looked at his watch.

“Alex, Kate, come here.” Blaine called to the children. The two little ones stopped and looked back. “We’re going to meet with Auntie Mercedes.”

The children gave each other puzzled looks and then began to walk toward their parents. Alex appeared to be put out. Kate had that triumphant Rachel look on her face. Kurt and Blaine exchanged glances. That might be something to worry about as he got older. 

A little over half an hour later, they found Mercedes sitting on a bench talking with a fairly tall and large man. She had not changed much over the years. Mercedes trademark remained much the same as it had in McKinley. Still a curvy woman, she looked great. Adorned in purples and black she carried a huge bag with her. Still wearing a thick ‘Mercedes’ on a chain about her neck, this one had been made out of real gold. She still looked twenty.

The man looked officious and reminded Blaine of the security types at high end night clubs. Thirty pushing forty his hair receded and tattoos crawled up his neck from under his black leather jacket. Piercing green eyes seemed to take everything in at once. A large metal stud penetrated one ear. He started to rise but a hand on the arm caused him to sit again. 

Getting up, Mercedes’ smile spread her lips as wide as her mouth would permit. Wrapping her arms about Kurt, she squeezed while winking at his husband. Letting him go, she shifted to Blaine. Then she stopped and stared at the twins. The children politely gazed at her though their eyes gave away her bewilderment. 

“They don’t remember me?” Mercedes looked at her two high school friends. 

“It was a while ago,” Kurt commented. The big man’s green eyes captivated him. 

Noting where his husband gazed, Blaine smiled. Those eyes captivated. Kneeling between the twins, he pulled them both close. “Kate, Alex, you were babies the last time you saw Mercedes. Your fathers have known her for many years.”

Gazing at the heavy set woman, Alex suddenly looked to his sister. “Shasha.”

Puzzled, Kate stared and Mercedes and then glanced up at Daddy B.

“Yes.” Blaine nodded. 

Kurt grinned as he glanced at Mercedes, “They love the song you did for Princess Shasha.”

Mercedes laughed. “A lot of kids do. It’s my most successful single.”

“Why don’t you go give Mercedes a big hug?” Blaine pushed the kids forward a step.

All they needed, the two of the charged forward as Mercedes bend down to greet them. She beamed as their kids smothered her. The children squirmed against her clamoring for Shasha.

Giggling, Mercedes snuggled with the kids. “If you’re nice, Princess Shasha will sing for you.”

The kids yelled.

Briefly touching Kurt’s hand, Blaine looked happy. “How much time do you have, Mercedes?”

Looking up she replied. “I have no plans for tonight. So, I’m all yours.”

“Good, you and your friend can come over for dinner.” Blaine nodded to Kurt. “We can phone Rachel and Jesse to see if they are free.”

“That would be great. Has she dropped the bomb yet?” Mercedes made faces at the kids who laughed.

“Kenneth’s a few weeks old.” Kurt slid his hand into Blaine’s.

“She could be busy,” Mercedes began to stand as the kids pulled away. 

“Alex, Kate, no running,” Kurt told the twins. “We’re going home and auntie Mercedes is staying for dinner.”

“Well Shasha really sing?” Kate asked in an innocence tone.

“She’ll sing.” Mercedes touched the young girls chin. The looked at the parents. “Can we walk, I’ve been in planes and cars all day.”

“It’s a bit of a hike.” Blaine looked down at the children. Bending down he did up Alex’s coat. “We can walk up South End Avenue on the way to the West Village.”

“That’s a hike but I can use it.” Mercedes looked to the gentleman with him. She half smiled and then started to walk. “Kurt, Blaine, this is Jacob.”

“Hi, Jacob.” Blaine nodded and then went back to fussing with his son. 

“Security?” Kurt asked as he looked the huge man up and down.

“Yes,” Jacob replied in a very deep, southern voice. The big man stood there with his arms crossed against his chest. His piercing green eyes made up for less than average looks. 

“And a good friend,” Mercedes smiled at Jacob. The twinkle in her eye said there could be more.

“Do you like steaks, Jacob?” Blaine asked. He looked the man up and down. 

“As big as I can get it.” The large man grinned. 

“Any friend of Mercedes is a friends of ours.” Blaine nodded to Jacob. Holding his hand out to Alex, the little boy took it.

“Tell us, Mercedes, what have you been up to?” Kurt asked as he took Kate’s hand. His left comfortably gripped his husband’s right.

“Looking for my arm gays but I see you are still hopelessly attached at the wrist.” Mercedes mused.

The boys laughed. 

“I was just in Montreal and have meeting with my publisher on Friday. Thought I would take some time for myself.” Mercedes answered as the strolled up Battery Park City Esplanade. 

“Publisher?” Kurt looked down at the little person walking beside him.

“I wrote a book about my first couple of years in the business. Some people won’t be happy.” Mercedes winked.

“Not us?” Kurt’s tone rose. He gave his old friend a look. 

“You’ll have to read it to find out.” She smirked. “I’m not spending much time on school, so you may be safe. It is more about the crap in Las Angeles. But if you want me too Kurt, I could add a couple of chapters.”

“Ah, life has been more than hectic.” Kurt squished Blaine’s hand.

“I can imagine.” Mercedes glanced the twins and then at Kurt with an apologetic look. Like all their friends, she knew of the trial but not all the details. “We’re planning another tour? We’re starting in Washington and then twelve more cities in the States, five in Canada and the thirty around the world.” 

“With this Republican President, really?” Kurt ventured.

Mercedes rolled her eyes. “Even a Republicans likes music, Kurt.” 

Jacob swept his head down to look at Mercedes and then nodded.

“How about we change the subject?” Blaine suggested.

Giving Blaine a sideways look, Mercedes conceded. “What about you two.”

“We have a musical running on Broadway.” Kurt grinned and then glanced down at the child beside him. Kate lumbered along setting the pace for the adults and her brother.

“Wow, big time.” Mercedes patted Kurt on the shoulder. “I knew you two would make it.”

“If you are still about on Friday, bring Jacob as our guests.” Blaine offered.

Glancing at the tall man, Mercedes gave him a questioning look. He shook his head and then he gave her an impish grin followed by a wink. Laughing she said to the married couple, “I guess that means we have a date.”

“Fantastic.” Kurt beamed. Kate pulled at his hand. Looking down he noticed a lose lace. Bending down he tied it delaying the others who stopped and waited. 

“Well make a night of it.” Blaine waited for Kurt and then they walked on.

More and more people came down the path headed for the park. When they approached the turnabout circle marking the beginning of a busy road, Blaine crouched down. Pulling the twins close he glanced at both of them. “We are going to be walking up a busy street. What do we do on a busy street?”

“We hold daddy’s hands.” Kate said.

“Yes, and?” Blaine questioned with a smile.

Alex bobbed his head back and forth. “We do not let go.”

Drawing both kids into a hug, Blaine beamed.

“He’s good,” Mercedes commented to Kurt.

“He’s the best.” Kurt reached out to Kate.

“I think you’re a little biased, Kurt.” Mercedes began to walk.

“I certainly hope so.” Taking his daughter’s hand again, he turned toward the point where Battery Park City Esplanade led to a road. 

The six of them passed from under the blossoming trees out onto the sidewalk of South East Avenue. By the time they passed the veterinary hospital people filled the sidewalk. Walking at a pace set by the twins, they chit chatting about life and music. Mercedes could have called for her car but walking probably saved them time. Rush hour commuter chaos normally caused grid lock. When they reached Rector Park the busy flow of pedestrians forced them to walk in pairs one behind the other. Kurt and Kate strolled along in front of Mercedes and Jacob with Blaine and Alex bringing up the rear. With the huge trees of the park budding overhead, husband’s stopped to tend to the twins. 

“I think we might consider taking the bus from here.” Blaine looked to Kurt. Their daughter looked tired. 

Nodding, Kurt noted Alex wilted as well. “We can catch the M20 across the street.”

“Sorry Mercedes, short walk,” Blaine apologized to their friend.

Mercedes looked up at the tall buildings. “I hate taking the bus.”

“In New York, taking the bus is a good thing.” Kurt crouched down beside Kate adjusting her coat. 

Holding Alex close to him, Blaine glanced down the street for the bus. “London’s pretty bad.”

“You should try Tokyo. Now, that’s a zoo.” Mercedes stepped ahead of the boys and looked down the street. A few blocks away the New World Trade Center towered over everything.

“Come along, the light’s changed.” Holding his daughter’s hand Kurt led her cross the street. 

“It’s a magnificent structure.” Blaine stated as he came to stand beside his husband on the other side of the intersection.

The electronic white man on the sign post told them they could advance across Albany. Strolling up to the bus stop, a loud boom suddenly echoed down the street. Half a block away a huge ball of fire lifted cars from the street throwing debris and glass in all direction.


	40. Waiting

“…is still burning three hours later,” a blond woman in her thirties said. She sat behind a desk in a broadcast studio. The words in red at the bottom of the screen informed the population of New York City and the surrounding area a state of emergency existed.

A weary man cringed. The camera panned over the bodies lying in the ruined street. Eyes turned away. He wished the ears could tune it all out. The sights and sounds set him on edge. Why go on and on about it? Cut to something else like a boring sitcom. He stretched his neck back yawning and then suddenly pulled up short. It hurt. His body hurt. A bound arm felt uncomfortable. When things calmed down, the physicians wanted to look at him again.

“The death toll in New York has climbed to one hundred and thirty one. In Boston one hundred and three are confirmed dead and fifty seven in Philadelphia.” The handsome forties something man sitting beside the woman watched the images on the screen.

Every television within sight broadcast the same, repeated thing regardless of channel. Now and then they added in security video or stuff from a cell phones. The image they showed right now revealed events after the first blast. Caught on a cell phone, a cloud of flame rolled up into the air carrying with it metal and cement. Horror flashed in his mind revealing something the television would not know. The force hauled a large delivery truck into the air throwing it onto its side. The position it landed in channeled the worst of the blast up and over the place where he had been.

Remembrances of that moment bothered him more than the news broadcast. The head rolled to the right and then a sharp pain shot up through his shoulder. His eyes froze when his eyes fell upon his cell phone. The number continued to redial. Frustrated, he wanted to speak to family or even a friend. A welcoming voice would sooth raw nerves.

The manner in which the woman spoke irritated. Safe in her office, she pretended. The screen behind her split. On the left live shots of emergency crews moving about the intersection of South East Avenue and Liberty Streets. To the right the face of a man in his fifties appeared on the screen. The female anchor introduced the dignified gentleman. “Robert Paulic is a former bomb removal expert for the City of New York. Robert, give us your opinion of what has happened thus far.”

Speculation, he thought. Did this man have any idea what he spoke about? Perhaps he did, but his interview came from a nice office somewhere outside New York. He could hardly imagine the chaos outside the hospital walls. Buildings in the blast zone sustained heavy damage or burned. Windows for blocks shattered. Sirens wailed up and down the street. Helicopters and the occasional fast jet roared overhead. Other than the doctor who stitched his shoulder up, the injured man had seen two nurses and one of them twice. They all had an air of hurry about them. He received platitudes but no answers to his direct questions.

The expert said, “This is your typical bait trap. The first blast was designed to draw the bait to the point of the emergency. In this case the first responders and commuters became the victims. The other two created most of the damage. From watching the videos, there had been multiple points of detonation many of which included flammable materials. My guess is…”

A painful sigh escaped the injured man’s lips. The bandage on his cheek made it hard for him to move his jaw. A little over three hours before, a cloud of flame, dust and stuff rolled down the street. On instinct, a father wrapped his body about his son. The boy screamed when his dad hauled him to the ground. For what seemed like an eternity, Alex squirmed in his protective arms confirming at least he lived. He knew nothing of his love, a child and a friend. Sound became a morass of jumbled noises punctuated by the clashing of steel, screams and things falling all around. Something stuck him on the side of the face. Seconds later another object fell upon his shoulder. He would not know until later that the shoulder padding of his jacket saved him from a debilitating wound.

The quivering sensation racing up his spin caused the injured to stiffen. Pain etched across his face. He did not want to remember but he had no hope in forgetting. How could he overlook the sobbing child which became his focal point? Cradling Alex, a father called out for his husband and daughter. Hearing nothing caused his heart to stop. Kicking with his foot, he tried to feel for anyone about him. Panic settled in when he felt nothing. Love of the child in his arms stopped him from reaching out further. Love for the rest of his family demanded it. The things falling around him prevented it.

Things moved in slow motion. Finally, the dust settled as the worst effect of the blast rolled on down the street smashing windows and sending people looking for protection. The mind cleared for a second and pain flashed from his shoulder down into his back. Without letting go of his screaming child, he lifted his head. To the left, a chunk of metal with the markings of the post office lay close by. A boot stuck out beneath it. Jacob lay there not moving with Mercedes folded into his arms. Blood ran down her face into a pool.

Calling out with a hoarse voice, he heard a tiny voice call back. Stretching to look to his extreme right he say a form pressed against a concrete wall. The child enveloped in her dad’s arms screamed and trying to pull herself free form the motionless man on top of her. Blood ran down her little face. Then he saw it and his heart stopped. A piece of glass protruded from his husband’s lower back. Sentiment rose in his throat like bile. The chin dropped as he felt his chest pull tight. Even though the boy in his arms demanded attention, his eyes remained fixed on his motionless husband.

Time blurred. People screamed about him. A woman and a man hobbled by holding one another. She supported him. Blood dripped from his face. Somewhere something noisily crashed to the ground. Metal grated against metal and concrete. Sirens echoed through the buildings provided hope. Settling dust glowed red from the fire raising up the building down the street.

Someone ran up to him. A middle aged man wearing a dusty white knee length jacket, materialized before injured man’s face. Ripping the coat from his body he pressed it into a bloody shoulder. The injured man screamed even as he pointed at the child trapped under his motionless husband. The man tending to him took no attention until someone else ran over to him. Also wearing a white coat, she had a large plastic shopping bag in her arms. The man dug into it and pulled out a hand full of sealed gauze and other things. He then pushed the woman away pointing to Mercedes.

A minute later a police man trotting up the street followed by two women. One in white the other in blue, they carried several bags in their hands. They stopped when they noticed the middle aged man who directed one to Mercedes and the other to the injured man’s husband. The police officer got on his radio.

A couple of men in blue, lugging four yellow and red cases, jogged to catch up with the first bunch. The older man directed them to other people lying about what had been a bus stop. One of them dropped a case next to the man treating a torn shoulder and another next to the person working on Mercedes. Another got dropped close to his husband. The last one disappeared into the settling dust.

The fellow hovering over the wounded man awkwardly opened the case with one hand and then reached in pulling out a piece of medical equipment. Holding his son, a father screamed when the medical professional tugged something out of his shoulder and then poured a stinging liquid onto the wound. The insignia on the case identified the veterinary hospital down the street.

Then the second and third explosion roared in the distance. All hell broke free. Again, a father smothered his son. The woman in the blue coat spread it out over his husband and Kate as she laid himself across them being careful of the glass. The animal doctor piled on squishing Alex beneath two adult bodies. They all felt the heat of the air rushing down Albany. The huge cloud of dust carried with it a new threat. People screamed and hit the ground. Fortuitously the blasts had no real effect on those suffering on South East Avenue.

Even before the dust cleared, the veterinarian tore at a trendy coat with something sharp. Tearing the shirt beneath, he packed stuff into the shoulder and taped it down. Shifting his attention to Mercedes. The singer barely moved. Studying the situation, he pointed down the street and told one of the two women to help people elsewhere. Even as she trotted off, the lady aiding a stricken husband yelled for the middle aged man. Tying a tourniquet about Mercedes’ leg, he gave the woman wrapping bandages about the singers head instructions. Picking himself up, he ran over to man and the little girl. In an instant he told the technician to drag on of the medical kits over.

Looking to the policeman, the animal doctor called him over. Giving him instructions, they gently lifted the motionless form just enough to slide the little girl out from under him. She screamed and at that moment Alex called to her. Kate’s bloody hand came up. The middle aged man yelled to the policeman throwing him a pile of gauze. He uniformed man began rip the packages open packing it into the squirming girls arm. When the technician got back, she took over for the policeman who cradled the terrified girl tightly against him.

It seemed to take forever before three firemen showed up along with a horde of police officers. The fire crews carried large cases in a metal caged stretcher. Two went to Mercedes and one to the impaled husband. Policemen dug into medical kits and then ran down the street to help others. The boy in his father’s arms squirmed less. Bleeding, but not heavily, he stared at his sister, weeping. Then the police began evacuating the less seriously wounded. Able to convince them the children were his, a father recalled holding his daughter and son in the back of a speeding police car. The fate of his husband and a friend rested in the hands of people who normally worked on dogs and cats.

An overcrowded emergency boomed with screams of despair and wild calls. Security and police let only the wounded in. Ambulances and other vehicles clogged the road to the hospital. At the entrance they studied the wounded assigning them a number according to the severity of their wounds. A father found himself being rated number three. Number four had been pinned to Alex but they took Kate right away. He had to wait until a nurse pulled him and Alex into the curtained off area where a doctor and a nurse carefully studied the bloody wound on the sedated little girl’s head. It bumped father and son up the list.

They kept the family together in a crowded area along with two dozen non-critically wounded people. Kate lay in a bed with Alex curled up at her feet watching. With her father at her side, the little girl slept in a drug induced world. Kate’s left arm had been stitches up and then bound in thick gauze. Flying glass cut almost to the bone. They shaved her head to treat the wound to her scalp. A bandage lay there now. The only information their father received concerned her condition. While not requiring immediate surgery, she would need to be re-examined when things settled down. Alex had a couple of minor cuts and bruises.

More injured poured in stretching the facility to the limit. It did not take long before they started moving the slightly wounded out to nearby clinics. Air ambulances landed on a regular basis transporting stabilized critically wounded to hospitals across the river. Eventually a clerk came along asking for names. Irritated, a father told the young lady he was looking for his husband and a friend. Giving names, in an off handed manner he dropped an important personage. Thirty minutes later, two FBI agents showed up. They hustled the family into the room in maternity ward where they now waited. The agents said very little. A worried husband did manage to overhear something about having the family transferred out of New York. Where? Why? What did they wait for?

Wearing trousers, no shirt and hospital gown, he glared at the door. Looking up at the endless loop on the television, the ticker tape at the bottom increased the death toll in New York by twenty. His heart fell – his love? Marching over to the door he pulled at it. Both agents turned with their hands up to prevent him from leaving. A father yelled at the two officials. They responded in a cold but polite manner telling him to get back inside the room. He swore.

His hands balled up and went up to his face. Wanting to shriek, his eyes suddenly went to a bed next to the window. Alex curled up against Kate. The both slept. Staring at his little darlings, he fought back tears. Folding his good arm over the sling he stood there staring. The voices on the television droned on. A few new details came to light but he did not hear them. He had his own private hell to contend with.

Turning to the window, he walked over and leaned his head on the pane of glass. From angle he could see the smoke rising up over the city. He loved the walk down South East Avenue. Husband’s often wandered down that path on many quiet afternoons. Now the face of one building lay in the street.

“Why can’t we learn to live with and accept one another?” a parent whispered to himself.

“Daddy?” a hushed, pained voice replied.

Startled, he spun around. Katherine’s head lay there facing her father. Hobbling over, a loving father touched his daughter lightly on her cheek.

“Daddy, I hurt…” A little girl’s voice trailed away as her face contorted in pain.

“Hush, dear one.” Emotion welled up within his throat along with a wave of relief. Reaching for the call button he pressed it several times while sitting in the chair beside the bed.

“Where’s papa?” Kate questioned in a low, soar voice. The little girl look of innocence evaporated. “He grabbed me so hard.”

A huge lump formed in the adult’s chest.

“Dad?” Alexander suddenly said.

Sorrowful eyes went to the boy. Looking across his sister’s stomach, his eyes filled with worry. Drawing in a deep breath, a father’s chest felt as if it could explode. Resolutely he took Kate’s good hand and moved it over so it fell upon Alex’s. Folding his fingers around them, tears rolled down his face.

Alex blinked. “Is…?”

Lips rolled about one another as their father tried to pull himself together. Hopeless, he let it all go as he stumbled on his emotions. “He…was…hurt.”

The two kids looked at one another. Chins quivering, Alex crawled over to his sister resting his head on her stomach. They both began to softly cry.

Barely able to hold it together himself, a father drew himself closer to his children. Again, he took both their hands in his. Wet eyes stared at his children. Closing his eyes he struggled and then a tear fell.

At that moment the door opened allowing a different, young nurse entry. Two men in dark suits stood on the other side watching. Carrying a tray she ignored the gentleman and walked over the bed. Leaning in she looked at the girl who stared back with teary eyes. Alex gazed up at the woman like a sorrowful puppy.

Without releasing the tiny hands, a parent softly said to the nurse, “Excuse me.”

She did not speak though she did look. Checking the drip, the nurse wore a gown over her pale yellow uniform. Blood stains on her pants and shirt. Injecting something into the liquid slowly dripping into Kate’s arm, she gave the child’s father a half smile and turned away.

“Where’s, papa?” Alex pulled his hand free and reached out to the strange woman.

The nurse swallowed as she half turned back.

Looking sorrowfully at her, their father pleaded, “Can you tell me something about Anderson-Hummel and Mercedes Jones?”

The nurse gave him a practiced look. “I wish I had some news for you but...”

“Is daddy dead?” Kate suddenly said. Her eyes looked glassy.

A spike drove into their father’s heart as his eyes went up to the nurse. A pained look crossed his face as tears began to flow.

Drawing in a deep breath, the nurse frowned. Checking the tubes connected to Kate once more, she gave the child’s father an apologetic look.

“Please, if you could?” He pleaded. He glanced down at his daughter.

Nodding, she turned and left. The FBI agents shut the door behind her.

Numb, a concerned parent sat next to the bed. Kate slipped back to sleep but his son lay there staring. Father rested his head on the mattress as Alex curled up against his sister with a sad little face. Laying a hand gently on his son’s small hand, thoughts immediately went to his husband. Holding hands made them feel so close. In high school one of them shied away from any public signs of affection. During his first two years in New York they both learned to relax and enjoy. It did not prevent an unfortunate and painful breakup.

At some point a parent drifted off. For how long he had no idea but the sound of the door opening alarmed him. His head coming up, he first looked to his children. Alex slept next to his sister. A yellow outfit covered by a gown came into view. The same nurse carried a pitcher of water on a tray along with something to eat and drugs.

A father found himself smiling at her.

Turning to the adult in the room, she said, “I am going to look at your bandages after check on your daughter.”

“Do you know anything,” he pleaded as he sat up right.

Alex stirred. Staring at the nurse, he said nothing. A father squeezed a tiny hand gently.

Placing the tray on the side table, it held cups of jelly, fruit and juice on it along with a single cup of coffee and two paper cups. Checking on Kate, she studied the bandages on her head and arm. Feeling her pulse, she nodded and the walked around the end of the bed and pushed Blaine’s gown back from his shoulder. Reviewing the condition of the bandages, she said, “Mr. Anderson-Hummel is still in surgery.”

“He’s here?” The injured man turned in the chair suddenly. Pain sped across his brow.

“Sit still,” the nurse commanded. She poked at his shoulder.

With hope in his eyes, a father found it hard to sit still. He winced with the discomfort.

A child rolled toward the edge of the bed. Staring at the woman Alex innocently said, “Daddy?”

Nodding, the nurse found it hard to avoid the child. “Along with Mercedes Jones.”

An adult’s heart froze. “How are they?”

“You’ve stopped bleeding and so has your daughter. I will be giving you some antibiotics. You’ll need to have that looked at again and have the bandaged changed.” She went to the tray, picked up a needle and a small bottle. Filling the syringe to the correct level, she returned to the children’s father and injected his good arm.

Making a face as the needle dug into his flesh, a parent’s eyes remained locked on the nurse.

Pulling the needle out, she collected the drugs she had brought with her. Before departing she looked back at him and sort of smiled. “Sorry, I know nothing else.”

While her words stung, he felt relieved. Reached out, a parent touched the nurse on the arm. “Thank you, thank you so very much?”

The nurse nodded and left.

Pulling his fingers over his chin, he stopped. His eyes went back to the kids. Alex stared at him with a puzzled look. Taking the child’s hand, he spoke with excitement in his voice. “He’s here.”

The child did not look relieved. “Will he be alright?”

Closing his eyes for a second, enthusiasm faded. The child’s father quietly replied, “I don’t know.”

A little face filled with sympathy. Holding his arms out to his father, Alex wrapped his arms about his father’s neck when he leaned forward.

Time seemed to pass so slowly. The commotion outside on the streets continued. Now and then a father could hear something in the hall. The longer he waited the more anxious he became. The nurse did not come back. He could have sworn but that would not be fare. The poor woman must be busier than any day in her life. She had taken the time to spread some cheer and for that little kindness he would always be thankful.

His head rolling back so that he stared up at the ceiling. He found himself mindlessly gazing at a long crack running from the light to the wall. Suddenly his cell vibrated on the table. The injured man’s face scrunched together when literally jumped. The number had been redialing for nearly two hours. His hand quacked when he saw the number. Tapping it, he breathed a heavy sob.

“Blaine?” A woman’s voice reverberated through the hands free speaker. She sounded upset. “Blaine, are you there?”

“Mom?” Blaine moaned into the phone. His throat constricted.

“Blaine, oh my god, you’re safe!” Pam’s voice trembled over the phone.

“Mom, I’m fine. Battered but fine.” Blaine felt relieved to hear his mother’s voice.

“What about Kurt? The kids?” Another female voice echoed out of the cell phone.

“Carole, he’s in surgery.” Blaine’s voice faded in strength that the words rolled from his tongue. He started to sob.

“Blaine?’ Pam called into the phone.

The man could not stop crying. Alex reached up to his father. Blaine put the phone down and enfolded the child in his good arm.

“Blaine.” Carole cut in.

Sniffing, Blaine moaned, “Mom?”

“Blaine, listen. He’ll be alright.” Pam’s voice gave away the fact she worried.

“The kids?” Carole’s voice over lapped Pam’s near the end.

“They’re with me.” Blaine glanced at his son and daughter. He began to cry again.

“Blaine, honey, keep it together,” his mother advised. Her voice trembled.

“Blaine?” Carole called out. The manner in which her voice vibrated revealed great emotion.

“Mom, a large piece of glass was sticking out of his…” Blaine paused and wiped his eyes. He stared Alex who fought to hold back tears.

Two completely different gasps echoed over the phone.

“Mom?” Blaine entreated. He snuffled back a tear and let out a long, loud breath.

“Nana,” Alex broke his silence.

Silence on the phone and then Carole said, “Alex, my boy. Are you alright?”

“I have an ouchie.” Alex replied in a strong tone.

“Your father will take care of you,” Carole replied.

“Kate’s sleeping.” Alex’s voice shook.

“Let her sleep, my darling. It will do her good,” Pam stated, emotion welling up in her throat.

“How’s Katherine?” Pam asked.

“They patched her up but want to look at her again when things calm down.” Blaine replied. He choked on a couple of words. He held back not wanting to worry his son.

Stillness for a moment.

“Mom, I know nothing of Kurt,” Blaine’s voice shook.

“Dad?” Alex asked.

Silence. Blaine glanced at his son. The boys head lay on his bicep and started to cry.

Overcome, Pam spoke to Alex. “Your dad needs you to be strong, Alex. Can you be strong?”

Sniffling, Alex voice sounded small and shaky. “Yes, nanna.”

The child hugged his father’s arm tighter and Blaine lowered his head against Alex’s. Blaine said nothing.

“Son?” Pam asked after a couple of seconds of silence.

His heart thumped gently in Blaine’s chest. “Mercedes was with us. She’s…I have no idea what is going on.”

“Blaine…” Carole’s voice trailed off.

“Have you asked?” Pam inquired.

“I pleaded with a nurse. She told me what she could.’ He suddenly looking at the door, Blaine said, “Mom, they won’t even let me leave the room?”

“Who won’t?” Pam asked, her voice hard.

“The FBI. It’s as if we’re under arrest.” Blaine sounded more than a bit upset.

The two women muttered something to one another. Carole then said. “You’re married to the son of congressmen. Burt phoned shortly after the president declared a national emergency. Everyone in the congress and senate and their families have been placed under protective custody.”

The thought boggled Blaine’s mind. “Why?”

“Blaine, don’t argue.” Pam sounded crossed.

“Yes, mom.” Blaine let out a sigh as his eyes went back to his kids. “I wish I could find out something about Kurt.”

“Blaine, their overwh….” The signal died.

“Mom? Carole? Mom! Fuck!’ Blaine’s voice rose as he shook the phone. It went back to redialing. He almost threw it away when Alex pulled at him.

The little boy stared at his father. Calmly putting the cell down, Blaine suspending redial mode. Pulling his arm away from his son, he pushed the chair back. With some effort and soreness, he lifted the boy placing him on his lap. Burying his face into his father’s chest, Alex trembled. Ignoring the pain radiating from his shoulder, Blaine leaned back and wrapped his arm about the child.

Both found comfort in one another’s touch. Not saying a word, together, they watched Kate. The little girl moved now and then. Oddly, her father wondered how she would handle the scar. Would it become a badge of honour?

Her father suddenly smiled and kissed the boy on the top of his head. Laying a cheek there, Blaine softy began to sing to the man he loved.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qmqH48XIHlM)

_I walked across an empty land_  
_I knew the pathway like the back of my hand_  
_I felt the earth beneath my feet_  
_Sat by the river and it made me complete_

_Oh simple thing, where have you gone?_  
_I’m getting old and I need something to rely on_  
_So tell me when you’re gonna let me in_  
_I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin_

_I came across a fallen tree_  
_I felt the branches of it looking at me_  
_Is this the place we used to love?_  
_Is this the place that I’ve been dreaming of?_

_Oh simple thing, where have you gone?_  
_I’m getting old and I need something to rely on_  
_So tell me when you’re gonna let me in_  
_I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin_

_And if you have a minute, why don’t we go_  
_Talk about it somewhere only we know?_  
_This could be the end of everything_  
_So why don’t we go somewhere only we know?_  
_Somewhere only we know_

_(Some - where)_  
_And if you have a minute, why don’t we go_  
_Talk about it somewhere only we know?_  
_This could be the end of everything_  
_So why don’t we go? So why don’t we go?_

_And if you have a minute, why don’t we go_  
_Talk about it somewhere only we know?_  
_This could be the end of everything_  
_So why don’t we go somewhere only we know?_  
_Somewhere only we know_  
_Somewhere only we know_

Teary eyed, Blaine barely noticed the scene on the television shifting to the White House. Speaking to the nation and the world, president of the United States stood behind a podium. Beside him, vice president Sue Sylvester looked on with a stern face.


	41. Sorrow

“Daddy hugged me so I did not get more ouchies?” Alexander said to his mother. Sentiment rode on his voice.

A mother’s tone lifted an octave. “Blaine?”

Without thinking, Blaine said, “We’re in Presbyterian Lower Manhattan Hos...”

“What?”

“Rachel, we had just crossed Albany whe…”

“Oh, my god. The kids? Kurt?”

“The children are alright Rachel. Kurt and Mercedes are in surgery. Jacob’s…dead.”

The sound of Rachel’s voice felt as if she stood on top of Blaine’s phone. “Mercedes?”

“Who’s Jacob?” Jesse asked at more or less the same time. A child wailed in the background.

The sight of the mailbox sitting on top of Jacob sent a chill up Blaine’s spin. The singer and her bodyguard had been standing only a meter away when all went sideways. One moment dust and debris flew all over and then he saw the outcome. The heavy metal box lay on an angle across his body. At the time his mind did not recognize the seriousness. Now, he considered the fact it could have been himself or Alex.

“Blaine?” Jesse’s voice broke the eerie silence.

Sniffling back sobs, Blaine’s eyes went from Alex to Kate and then slowly back. Breathing in, he softy said, “I don’t know. No one is telling me.”

Alex placed a hand on his father’s arm. “Daddy?”

“Alexander?” Rachel’s tone revealed she struggled to keep together.

Alex looked up at his father. “Sorry, mommy, my jacket is ripped.”

Rachel paused. When she spoke she sounded frustrated. “How’s your sister?”

Stroking his son’s hair, Blaine looked to Katherine sleeping on the bed. A father never wanted to see a child in such condition. The sight bent his heart. Trying to be strong for his children wore on him and now Rachel went off the handle. He did not need this but then she had a right to know.

“She has tubes in her.” Alex’s voice choked up.

“What?” Rachel’s tone intensified Alex shied away. “How bad?”

“Rachel, she injured her arm and has a concussion. The doctors want to look at her again when thing slow down. Other tha…” Blaine rocked his son back and forth. Both understood Rachel’s moods.

“Push the damned button and find out!” Rachel screeched.

“Dear, that will solve nothing,” Jesse said to his wife as Blaine moved. His voice sounded as if he spoke from another room.

“Fuck, Jesse!” Rachel growled.

“Rachel, put a sock in it, you’re helping any one.” Jesse growled at his wife.

“Blaine go out there and get someone!” Rachel pressed.

“They won’t let me out of the room?” Blaine said in a soft, barely heard voice.

“Who?” Rachel demanded. The volume rose again.

“The FBI.” Blaine glanced at the door. The last time he tried to leave the agents responded in their usual polite manner. He told them he wanted some water for the children. They got it for him.

“What the hell?” Jesse questioned.

Shaking his head, Blaine released a long breath. “Carole told me it has to do with Burt.”

“Jesus.” Jesse fell silent.

“I just want to hear something about Kurt.” Blaine whined. The frequency of the sirens outside died away. Three and a half hours ago he had been in the middle of hell. Now, he just wanted some news.

Alex placed a hand on his father’s and looked up at him. Soft, reddened eyes forced Blaine to smile. The boy swam in the waters of his emotions. Blaine could see he tried to be brave but at nearly six, he really did not understand what happened.

“I’m on my way,” Rachel’s voice had a hardness to it. A chair scraped against the floor.

“Dear, Lower Manhattan had been shut down. They wouldn’t allow you to get close,” Jesse said.

Rachel shouted. “God damn it…I’ll walk!”

“Rachel, you have newborn to worry about.” Blaine injected. Typical irrational but loveable Rachel.

A child began to cry and Rachel shrieked. “They’re my children too!”

Jesse firmly said to his wife. “Rachel, you’re not going anywhere.”

“For fuck’s sake, Blaine and Kurt are family.” Rachel snarled.

The newborn wailed. Jesse’s voice rose. “Rachel!”

“Oh, just give me that damned baby.” Rachel did not sound pleased but she did sound calmer.

Worry in his tone, Jesse redirected the conversation. “And Mercedes?”

“Shasha?” Alex suddenly called out. Pain filled his tone.

Holding his son closer, Blaine felt the boy pull in a shaking breath. A father gently pressed Alex’s little head into his chest. His son sniffled and Blaine’s heart sank. Protecting their children had always been every parent’s number one responsibility. An explosion stripped that away from him. He helplessly watched as all sorts of things assaulted his children…his husband. Prepared to give his all, Blaine held Alex as close as humanly possible. Had that been a failure? He did not know? Losing track of Kurt and Kate ripped at him. The hopelessness he faced for the past two years ago loomed all about. He not only failed his family but also himself.

“Blaine?” Rachel pleaded in a more controlled tone.

A mother’s concerned voice washed away into bubbling emotions. She demanded and while some aspect of him would not argue that other part wanted to hang up. Sitting in the hospital made him think of the dangers of the world. Had it been fair to being children into the world knowing some madman might kills them. What kind of environment would they inherit? A father thought of this as he worried. Kurt and Kate? What would become of them?

The boy in his arms brought Blaine some measure of comfort. His heart beat in his tiny chest reminding him that humanity may yet prevail. Mercedes and Kurt remained the wild cards bending a man’s mind this way and that. Life without Kurt? What would it be like? Could he go on without the man he loved? The presence of children told him yes but the heart melted with the pain it endured. Two years. Two fuck’n years.

With no real thought, Blaine’s mind spewed words. “We met Mercedes in Battery Park. She was coming home for dinner. We were going to ask you to come over. We walked down South East…I don’t know. There was a lot of blood.”

Rachel gasped. Jesse mumbled something to her.

“I held Alex as if there were no one else in the world.” Blaine began to cry.

Alex’s voice cut into his father’s. “Daddy?”

“Blaine?” Rachel’s sounded so quiet. Then in a loud, single explosion, she yelled. “Blaine!”

The man blinked. Stumbling on the words, as he relived his weaknesses. He chose the route. “Mercedes began to scream. Someone ran to her. They came from the veterinary hospital down the street.”

“Good god.” Rachel’s voice drew the words out. In the background a baby still cried.

“I heard sirens. Lots of sirens. People ran all over the place. Someone came up to me. I waved him off but he stayed. He pushed something into my shoulder.” Blaine ambled on.

“You’re hurt?” Jesse injected. Rachel said something in the background.

A distraught father’s brain no longer functioned. “Then there were…two more…loud blasts. I remember wrapping myself around Alex and that is when I saw Kurt. He lay in a heap against the side of the building smothering Kate in his arms…Rachel…a piece of…glass stuck out of his back.”

Jesse and Rachel sharply inhaled.

“Momma?” Alex called.

“Oh, my dear boy,” Rachel’s voice broke on a couple of words. “Mommy would be there if someone would…?”

“Kate’s moving.” Alex choked on the words. “She hurts.”

Staring at his daughter, Blaine could not answer. Guilt racked him. His eyes went to his son, he lowered his head. Blinking back tears, he glanced away from his daughter toward the window as if something had caught his attention. He failed those he loved.

“Blaine?” Rachel called back. Her voice broke as tears flowed.

Jesse cautioned. “Rachel, calm down.”

Rachel said something angrily to her husband before yelling into the phone, “For fuck sake, Blaine!”

Shocked, Blaine blinked. Hauling himself up to his feet, an injured man carried Alex awkwardly with him. Limping over to the window he looked up. “Helicopters.”

Rachel shrieked. “Blaine, really? How’s my daughter!”

“For Christ’s sake Rachel!” Blaine shot back. Pulling himself up short before he said something hurtful, he found it hard to find pity. Turning, he walked over to the bed again. Hesitatingly, even painfully, he put Alex down again.

The woman on the other end growled. “Damn it, Blaine!”

“Bloody hell, Rachel! You’re not the one who watched…fuck!” Drawing in a deep breath, Blaine glanced at his son shaking his head. In a calmer voice he said, “Rachel, Katherine is asleep. She has a head and arm injury. As I said, they want to look at her again.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Ms. Berry’s voice rose. “Get a fuck’n doctor!”

“Rachel, yelling at me accomplishes nothing.” Blaine turned back to the window. Loud thumping passed overhead.

“Blaine?” Rachel’s tone softened into tears.

“Rachel, I can’t tell things I don’t know.” Blaine pressed his nose to the glass. Whirling blades passed close overhead.

“Daddy?” Alex moaned. He looked terrified.

Sitting, Blaine cradled the boy against him. “Alex, there’s no more booms.”

“What’s that sound?” Rachel’s voice became lost in Blaine’s.

“Rachel, you’re not listening? I told you there are helicopters, big grey ones, circling the building.” Blaine responded to the woman on the phone.

“Help’s on the way.” Jesse commented.

“Blaine…I’m sorry,” Rachel said in a low, calm voice.

Blaine remained quiet for a moment. Gathering his thoughts, his heart pounded in his chest. Alex shuddered as another helicopter roared overhead. Laying a head against his sister, the boy looked frightened. Blaine finally answered. “Rachel, believe me, I wish I could….”

The door suddenly opened and a fully armed marine walked in. Blaine loudly inhaled.

“What’s happening?” Rachel demanded.

“Gpa!” Alex suddenly screamed. The boy crawled to his knees.

Stepping into the room behind the marine, Congressman Burt Hummel wore a flak jacket and carried a steal military helmet under his arm. The dark blue suit looked out of place under the military hardware. Out in the hall three men in dark suits with ear pieces gathered about the FBI agents. A forth walked into the room behind the congressman and looked around. Two more fully armed marines and a women in fatigues waited just in view. The grave look on Burt’s face evaporated the moment his eyes fell upon his grandchildren and son-in-law.

“Blaine?” Jesse called into the phone.

“Burt’s here?” Blaine’s voice revealed heavy emotion. Turning, he stared at his father-in-law. Barely able to contain himself. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Rachel, let’s allow them time?” Jesse said over the phone.

Rachel pleaded. “Jesse?”

“Hello, Rachel, Jesse,” Burt understand why he could not get through. Perhaps his voice would calm things.

“Rachel, I’ll call back.” Blaine sputtered. Staring at Kurt’s father, the young man choked on his emotions. Picking up the phone tapped it ending the call. He could imagine Rachel snarling on the other end.

Eyes locked on Burt, Blaine now openly cried. Hesitantly, he turned and then he threw himself into this father-in-law’s arms. Burying his face into Burt’s chest Blaine shook. Stroking his sobbing son-in-law’s back, Burt glanced over his shoulder. Nodding to the people out in the hall, the woman squeezed between men in the suits. She carried a big, rigid case with a medical symbol on it.

His head leaning against Blaine’s fussy mop, the older man watched his grandchildren. His expression changed as a tear rolled from his eye. Instinctively he squeezed the younger man tighter. “Blaine, Major Witherspoon is going to look at you and the kids.”

His sobs slowing, Blaine moved his head without letting Burt go. His eyes fell on his son who fearfully stared apprehensively at the major. “Alex, she is one of the heroes.”

“Like Ironman?” Alex’s head tilted to one side. He did not look convinced.

Kneeling in front of the child on the bed, the major looked up with a bright smile. “Like Wonder Woman.”

The boy gave her a perplexed look.

“She’s helped Princess Shasha?” The words held in in Blaine’s throat.

The boy pointed toward the door. “Princess Shasha is there?”

The doctor gave the child an odd look as he started to dig into her medical satchel.

Wiping his eyes, Blaine choked on his breath. “Mercedes was with us. I have no idea what’s going on.”

Pivoting on a heel proved difficult with his son-in-law hanging onto him. Glancing at the nearest man in a suit, the congressman softly asked, “Karl, can you go and find out what you can about my son and Mercedes Jones.”

The man nodded and turned away.

“Karl?” The doctor interrupted. He laid instruments out on the flap of the rigid case - tweezer, scissors, gauze and tape. She did not look up.

“Mam?” the secret service agent responded.

The major added, “I’ll need to see their charts or talk to the doctor that treated them.”

The agent nodded. “Yes, mam.”

Blaine watched all this with some regard. His eyes narrowed as he studied the doctor looking at the scraps on Alex’s face.

“The vice president sends her regards.” Burt slowly unwrapped Blaine from about him as he took a step toward the bed.

Sniffing, Blaine moved with him. He stared in disbelief. “Sue?”

“Yup, she sent me up here on a fact finding mission with a wink.”

“Sue?”

“She’s the vice president, Blaine.”

Blaine had not heard anything from Sue Sylvester in over seven years. The last time the spoke to Sue, she gave him shit for backing Hillary. “I talked to Carole and my mom.”

“I know.” Burt sat on the bed beside Alex placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Alex slid closer. The doctor waited and then continued working.

Blaine looked at his feet. Emotion flashed across his face. He felt spent and pathetic. “I thought we had come through it and now…Burt…”

Holding onto his grandson, Burt patted the bed beside him. When Blaine sat, the congressman wrapped an arm about his son-in-law. “Shit happens. There is nothing we can do about it. All we can do is pray and love.”

“But…” A father watched the doctor studying his son. Alex gave her grave looks but did what she told him.

“There’s no buts, Blaine. We have no control over what others do. Look at the smoke outside. We can do everything we think will protect those we love but there is always a way around it.”

Blaine glanced up at Kurt’s father. For the first time in hours he felt calm.

Smiling, Burt patted Blaine on the back. “Do you remember our talk in the hospital after you got hit?”

The ex-Warbler nodded. The memory flash disturbed him. On the table the phone vibrated but he elected to ignore it.

“The way you answered told me much. I saw the love under the pain and anger” The congressman nodded.

Blaine looked surprised.

Burt grinned. “I pulled a few strings. It was worth the gamble.”

“You?”

“Yes.”

Leaning into Burt, Blaine rested his head on the other man’s shoulder. “Thank you for making me see how foolish I was.”

“Pain blinds us but love is more powerful.”

“You’re wise, Mr. Hummel.”

“Not really, I’ve been married twice.”

Both men chuckled.

Looking at the major, Burt asked, “Well.”

“He’s a good boy. No fussing,” The doctor replied as she replaced the bandages on Alex’s neck and arm. “Brave boy. He’s in good shape.”

Suddenly Blaine glanced at Katherine. “My daughter?”

“I’ll need to see that emergency report.” The major glanced at the sleeping girl. Her eyes went to the tape stretching down onto Blaine’s pectoral from the bandaged hugging his shoulder.

“They told me she suffered a concussion. There was a lot of blood. They stitched up her arm.” Blaine could not take his eyes from Katherine.

Nodding, the major looked at Blaine over her glasses. “I’ll take a look but first I want to peek at that shoulder of yours.”

Blaine endured having the sling and bandages removed. The doctor made some comments about the workmanship which Blaine chose to ignore. With a swab and gauze she cleaned the area up again while telling Blaine of her credentials. Having served in a mobile hospital at the turn of the century during the war in Iraq, the end of her sixth tour quickly approached. She arrived with four other doctors, a dozen nurses and a marine squad. The soldiers supplemented the police at the door and organized the airlift to the waiting naval medical ship that had dropped anchor in the Hudson River. Accompanied by two frigate, the armed ships closely watched the skies over the city. An amphibious assault ship disembarked troops in Battery Park.

It took a while before Karl returned with a nurse Blaine did not recognize. The old woman looked nervous as glanced about the room. Blood soaked her shoes and pant legs. She spoke to the congressman she had been introduced to. “Mr. Hummel, I have the emergency reports, as complete as they can be under the circumstance. Your son is in recovery.”

“How is he?” Blaine asked. The major taped the new bandages to his shoulder. He refused anything that would make him drowsy.

The nurse gave the young a look and turned her back on Blaine. She spoke to the Washington official. “The glass has been removed but he is not out of danger. He lost a lot of blood and it took a while to get all the internal bleeding under control.”

Blaine gasped. “Can I see him?”

Glaring at the young man, she asked in a hard tone, “Are you a relative?”

“That young man is my son’s husband,” Burt explained. The appearance of his face revealed displeasure.

The nurse’s face pulled in as if the idea disgusted her. “You also asked about a Mercedes Jones?”

Fifteen minutes later, Blaine stood beside a bed with an incredibly handsome man lying in it. Karl and the marine nurse stepped away leaving a fully armed soldier on guard a couple of yards away. Holding his secured arm, a happy but worried husband gazed at Kurt’s scratched face. Propped up on his side to relieve the pressure on his back, tubes stuck into Kurt’s arms and nose. The heart monitor beeped away and thankfully he breathed on his own.

Fear snuck into Blaine’s heart as the minutes passed. Burt might look at the past two years with an openness but Blaine found it hard to share his thoughts. The man he loved faced more hardship. They faced more hardship. The nurse had been blunt when she said Kurt hovered on the edge. Due to the emergency the doctors did what they could at the time but further tests and perhaps surgery may be necessary.

Eventually, the marine nurse came back to check on Kurt. Kind enough to ask if Blaine wanted anything, she returned a few minutes later with coffee and a muffin. Hovering on the edge, she helped with the other patients in the overcrowded ward. The corporal armed with an automatic rifle remained on his mark watching the couple.

When he finally got up the courage, Blaine took Kurt’s hand in his and waited. Within seconds his husband twitched and Blaine pulled back. A finger abruptly pressed against his and Blaine’s heart rose in his chest. Leaning close he laid his head on the bed watching that finger. The doctors classified Kurt as guarded and wanted another twenty four hours before deciding if he could be moved.

At some point, Burt came to visit carrying Alex in his arms. Accompanied by two secret service shadows, the congressmen paused when he noticed his son. Blaine stood and hugged his son and father-in-law together.

“Daddy K!” Alexander blurt out. The child squirmed in his grandfather’s arms.

“Alex, honey, Daddy K is resting,” Blaine stroked his son’s arm. The boy pouted. His father had trouble keeping it together.

Strolling over to the bed, Burt stared at his son. Innocently, Alex reached up and pulled on the older man’s chin. Smiling, Burt kissed his grandson on the cheek. “You daddy needs his rest. Do you have anything you would like to say to him?”

The boy looked down at Kurt. In a soft voice he said, “I love you, Daddy K.”

Burt stared at his son while resting his head against his grandson. Slowly his eyes went to son-in-law. “Blaine, they’ve taken Kate for an x-ray. One of the boys is with her.”

Suddenly worried, colour drained from Blaine’s face.

Smiling, Burt shifted Alex in his arms. “It’s nothing to worry about, Blaine. They’re just checking. When they have the time the want to do an MRI just to make sure.”

His heart pounded against his ribs, Blaine nodded.

Refusing to release Alex, Burt stepped closer to his son. He drew in a heavy, shaky breath. He stumbled on a tear. “When my son is capable, you will all be moved to Walter Reed.”

Blaine glanced about at all the beds stacked against the walls with wounded people in them and busy staff. “Burt, we’re no one special?”

“You’re my son-in-law and that is my son. Kate and Alex are my grandchildren. But if it makes you feel better, the president has ordered the hospital be deployed to aid as best it can.”

Giving Burt a serious look, Blaine asked in a hushed voice. “Burt, how bad is it out there?”

Pulling in his lower lip, Burt closed his eyes. “In New York, seven hundred and climbing, Over thirteen hundred in all three cities and then there’s Europe.”

Stumbling back Blaine blinked. He had no idea. Looking at Kurt he felt suddenly awful.

“For once, I am not going to argue with Sue. She is the one that ordered that you be protected and moved.” Burt reached out placing a hand on his son. It stayed there for a long while. Drawing in a deep breath, the congressman looked as if he would cry. Glancing at Blaine he slowly turned. “I think I’ll take Alex back to the room and wait for Kate. I need to call your mother and Carole. Take as much time as you need.”

“Burt, I…” Blaine stopped when his father-in-law held up a hand.

“Blaine, someone needs to be there when Katherine comes back. She’s awake and will be sacred. Before you object, you have been through…well shit…you need this. Besides, I don’t want Kurt to pick on me because my mascara is running.” Burt stared at his son for a moment longer and then left. Finally, he leaned in kissing Blaine on the cheek and left.

Surprised, Blaine watched his father-in-law leave. He pondered for a moment and then shook his head. Sitting, he glanced at the coffee and smiled. Picking it up, he made a face. Lukewarm. Still it felt good sliding down his throat. Nibbling on the muffin he had not realized how hungry he had become. All the worrying kept him going. Even though everything seemed to settle his heart still felt heavy.

Wrapping two fingers lightly about Kurt’s thumb, in time Blaine drifted off. The nurse returning to check on Kurt woke him. Shaking the fog from his head, Blaine smiled at the woman before turning his gaze back to his husband. Knowing a grandfather protected his children, Blaine felt content to just let himself rest his head beside that loving left hand. It felt so natural to hold it. Ever since the day they first met, it felt that way. In some small manner it became a private symbol of their love and commitment. Now he just watched those soft, supple and talented digits.

One of those fingers suddenly gyrated. Blaine released his grip, but soft skin pull about his. Rolling his head to look at the most precious man in the world, hazel eyes stared at a heavenly face. Kurt’s nose twitched. It looked so cute. Blaine began to sing in hushed tones.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-WKn6Z4Oxng)

_Nothing's gonna harm you_  
_Not while I'm around_

_Nothing's gonna harm you_  
_No sir, not while I'm around_

_Being close and being clever_  
_Ain't like being true_

_I don't need to, I would never_  
_Hide a thing from you_

_Like some_  
_Demons'll charm you with a smile_

_For a while_  
_But in time_

_Nothing can harm you_  
_Not while I'm around_

A loving voice died away to be replaced by constant, steady beeping of the heart monitor. In some strange manner, the sound comforted. Lips brushed against Kurt’s hand. Blaine held them there.

“I thought I heard an angel,” Kurt weakly said.

The heart froze. Drawing in a deep, shaky breath Blaine pressed his lips harder into his husband’s hand. He started to weep.

A finger brushed Blaine’s face. Kurt murmured, “My sweet, sweet angel.”

“Kurt, my darling, lovely Kurt.” Emotion filled Blaine trembling voice. Hazel eyes met blue.

Kurt’s lips pulled into a smile. “Your voice brought me home.”

Blaine choked. “Kurt?”

“It gave me strength.” Kurt struggled through the pain to speak.

The colour drained from Blaine face. Lowering his head onto the hand of the man he loved, sorrow filled his words. “This…is all my…fault.”

“Oh, dearest, you…we…did nothing.” A finger moved against Blaine’s unshaven face.

“I insisted we wal…” Blaine blubbered.

The hand under Blaine’s cheek twisted around so that Kurt could press it fully against an adoring face. With slow care he rubbed two trembling fingers back and forth. “Blaine, could you have known or stopped?”

“No.”

“You protected our son?”

“Yes?”

“Blaine, you did all you could.”

Hearing it from the man he loved beyond life itself, eased an aggrieved heart. Elsewhere, an old man glanced up at a lifeless face. For a moment he swore the lips curled up into a smirk. Kurt did that when he knew Blaine moved in the right direction. The handsome man knew his husband more than Blaine knew himself. The former Warbler soloist often swayed on the edge of the pit of despair. It took days for him to calm down if he missed a date. The long years of their marriage provided Kurt the tools he needed to settle thing before they go out of hand. One that day, many years ago, Kurt worked his magic. Oddly, an old man sensed something different as if the memory changed somehow.

A hard breath escaped Blaine’s lips and blew across Kurt’s face. The head moved as if the man lying their wanted to breathe it in. Squeezing his husband’s fingers, Blaine whispered, “How you know me, Mr. Anderson-Hummel.”

“Oh, how I love you Mr. Anderson-Hummel.” Kurt’s voice choked up.

Blaine’s head feel.

“You’re the best, my darling, Mr. Blaine Anderson-Hummel.” Kurt’s finger made a small circle on skin. Realization struck. Blaine lived for him. Not just words, the soul rotated around the man he loved. That odd sensation the two shared now and then, told one husband the other finally began to comprehend a life long struggle – stubbornness.

Blaine’s head moved as if he cried again.

Kurt’s expression morphed into nothing but the purest love. “Kiss me, my adorable husband.”

Without hesitating, Blaine carefully leaned over and place his lips against those of his husband. Everything melted away in that instant. He lived. Life would go on and then Blaine suddenly went cold. Pulling back he looked like a grief-stricken puppy.

Feeling the heaviness within his husband’s heart, Kurt looked distressed. “What is it, my love?”

Swallowing Blaine looked terribly uncomfortable. “Kurt, Mercedes is dead.”


	42. Funeral

The curtain did not go up on schedule. The hush gripping the crowded audience shifted toward nervous words. The city remained jumpy following the lasted threat to its longevity. Entire city blocks stayed closed as the crews continued to explore the shattered ruins. The Liberty Street façade of the building housing the World Trade Center Memorial Foundation had crashed down to the street. The walkway over Liberty no longer existed. Most of the eight sided building to the north had burned and later fell sideways onto Wall Street leaving an eerie skeleton in its wake. The condominiums at the Albany and Wall burned for two days. The large, third explosion left a twenty foot deep and seventy five feet in diameter hole in the sidewalk in the corner. The major intersection had become a ruin of cars, shattered buildings and devastated lives. 

Wearing a tweed suit, Blaine limped out onto the stage from the left. A long red scab created an interesting path down his cheek. Covered by a clear bandage, the stitching could be seen underneath. Gel matted down the mass of fine, curly hair on his head but not enough to make it look like a helmet. Looking straight ahead, his face had a serious but pleasant look to it. The heart pounding in his chest told a different story. He felt faint. 

Stopping off center, Blaine and a murmur went through the audience. A few people started to clap. Then they all clapped. Slowly the people climbed to their feet. Dressed from casual to uptown snooty, they all suffered in some manner. Once more the city they loved lay in tatters. Like last time, they did their best to get on with their lives. However, their city did not bear an ugly truth by themselves. Boston, Philadelphia, Toronto, Glasgow, Bristol, Brussels, Reins, Nice, Cologne, Potsdam, Moscow, Saint Petersburg, Milan and the Vatican joined with them. This had not been a simple attack but rather a well-coordinated and timed endeavour that left the leaders of the western powers scrambling. 

His hands shaking at his side, Blaine awkwardly endured. He would rather have just put a poster up along with an ad in the paper but he did this out of love. Kurt suggested he do this thing. In fact the lovely man had pleaded with his distraught husband. Under the circumstances how could Blaine so no. The journey from Walter Reed tore at him. From the air, the gaping scar close to the new World Trade Center could be easily seen. The more he stared out the window as his plane circled down toward the runway, the harder it became to breath. Emotions bleed deep within his body.

Turning to the wings, Blaine painfully crotched down. Wiggling his fingers, little Alexander trotted out onto the stage to join his father. The smile on Blaine’s face revealed pure joy and love as his son nervously approached. Those at the front of the audience slowly stopped clapping as hush slowly fell over the auditorium. The boy had a long, white bandage on his neck. 

Hugging his dear son, Blaine needed this. He wanted it. While he had not been impressed at the time, he recognized the importance of his husband’s demand. Blaine hated being forced away from the man he loved. His arguments failed when Carole arrived to stay with her adopted son and granddaughter. Pam offered her support by traveling with Blaine and Alexander to the city the two men loved. She stood in the wings watching. Having both of them here grounded a fearful man.

Alex wrapped his arms about his father’s leg when Blaine finally stood. Resting a hand lightly on his son’s head, the boy’s father looked down at him for a long minute. No one spoke. 

“It has been said, the show must go on,” Blaine tone revealed none of the emotions racking his body. “I…we…all of us are here, have come together to show those who would dismantle our way of life, our culture and art that they have not prevailed. Our fair city suffers again. We suffer again. There are some of you in this room who will remember nine eleven. A symbol of the free world fell. A few days ago, the symbols of freedom once more became tarnished by hate and ignorance.”

A rumble passed through part of the crowd.

“We opened our doors tonight, to tell the world Broadway lives. New York lives!” Blaine went on. All the while he stared down at his son. The boy’s head pressed into his thigh. Part of him hated using Alex in this way.

A cheer rose from the seats.

“The press is here to see a spectacle. Some of the fifth estate cried we opened our doors too soon and that we mock the memory of the fallen.” Blaine looked out into the crowd. “I say it is never too late to show our humanity by singing, dancing and thumbing our noses up at the bastards who did this thing.”

A few loud, supportive shouts came from the audience. 

“Thirteen hundreds of our neighbors will never see this night. In Boston and Philadelphia nine hundred more will never see another sunrise. Around the world, nine thousand beautiful souls will not draw another breath. Thousands more are wounded, myself, my son, my husband and daughter included.” Blaine’s hand came up. “Your parent’s, spouses, brothers, sisters, children and friends all know someone affected by this travesty. The music must go on. The play must go on. New York must go on.”

Someone in the seats began to sing the national anthem. In seconds everyone sang it. Blaine sang it. His son placed his little hand on his chest and sang it. Pam walked out on stage singing it. The curtains pulled apart. The crew and cast stood there singing it. Then, when the words died away, the theater fell absolutely silent for a number of minutes. Collective breathing became the only noise.

Glancing up at his father, Alex looked puzzled. Crouching down again, Blaine hugged his son. Sighing, he quickly glanced at his mother who stood almost on top of him. Pam affectionately smiled. 

Kissing his son on the cheek, Blaine looked to the audience steadying himself on one knee. “The play must go on and it will. We, the cast and crew, are here tonight to give to our city and its people. For the next thirty nights, we give our voices and dance to the people of New York. All of us here and the building owners are donating our salaries and rent to a fund to aid the families who have lost someone. The doors to this theater are open to all, at no charge. The only thing we ask is that you give to those who have lost loved ones and to enjoy our gift of freedom and the arts.”

The spontaneous explosion of emotion rose from the audience. Already on their feet, the clapped as Blaine, Alex and even Pam took a bow. Behind them the cast and crew took a bow. With his mother’s hand in one of his and his son’s in the other, Blaine turned and left the stage. Behind him the crew swung into action preparing the stage. The cast took their positions. The orchestra strummed cords. Anticipating the performance, the audience became silent.

Pushing himself up onto his pillow, Kurt grunted. The bed felt the same even though he rested somewhere else. They flew father and daughter to a hospital in Lima early this morning. Father and son arrived a few hours later. The entire family gathered in the private room to give thanks and to pamper father and daughter. Burt missed this because Washington politics bubbled at a furious state. The administration stumbled within the aftermath proving the president to be weak. Much to Burt’s displeasure, Sue filled in the gaps.

Blaine looked concerned and a bit tired. “Careful?”

“That was magnificent,” Kurt said to Blaine as he put the tablet down on the bed. “You running for election?”

“Na, why?” Blaine smirked. He leaned against the window ceil stroking Katherine’s hair. The little girl sat in a chair under the window. A bandage pressed against the bald spot on her head. 

“Look at what happened. Within a day all of Broadway lit up like a Christmas tree.” Kurt beamed at this husband.

Lowering his head, Blaine fought down waves of nausea. “It killed me to go.” 

“Blaine?”

“I know. Every venue and play opened their doors raised what, five million in of two days.”

“You got an audience with the mayor.”

“What a bother that was. Delay getting back to you. I hate politics.”

“You hate my dad?”

Hazel eyes shot open as Blaine stared, aghast at his lover. 

Smirking, Kurt winked.

“That was not nice, Kurt,” Carole chided her step-son. Alexander sat on her lap turning a toy truck over in his little hands. 

“It impressed the president.” Pam walked over to the window and looked out. The clouds had finally parted and the sun poked through. She placed a hand on her son’s arm. Her eyes mirrored the worry in her heart. “I bet Sue chewed on her tongue.”

“Why did he have to do it live.” Blaine moaned. He did not pull his eyes away from Kurt. “I’m not a republican.”

“For someone who loves the stage you hate the spotlight.” Kurt commented.

Blaine walked over and sat on the edge of the bed and took Kurt’s hand. His finger’s squeezed tightly together. “Entertaining and sucking up for votes are two very different things.”

“I wish I could have been there.” Kurt smiled at the man he loved even though his forehead scrunched together. Blaine had spent every waking hour at his side like some sad puppy that believed he had done something wrong.

Giving Kurt an admiring look, Blaine said. “I wish you had. Sucking up to you is much more fun.”

“He’s in no condition…” Carole butt in. Her eyes darted between the children.

“Mom, it’s not as if I could have anyhow.” Kurt pulled at all the tubs sticking out of his arms. He picked up a plastic suction thing hanging out of the hole in his side. He laughed. “With Little Bugger here as my constant friend, I don’t think it would have gone over to well.”

“Put that down,” Carole mad a face and covered Alex’s eyes. 

Kurt blew his step-mom a kiss and then looked to Blaine. “The politicians are all over you sweetie.”

Looking to the man he loved. Blaine frowned. “I would rather have you all over me.”

“Give it time.” Wink.

“The kids?” Carole objected. 

“Rachel and her clan come in tomorrow.” Pam changed the subject. She knew the boys adored themselves like love sick teens but at times she wished they grew up a little bit.

Kurt smiled at his mother-in-law. “Thank you for letting them stay to your place, Pam?” 

“They’re family.” Pam nodded. “And I get to play with a newborn.”

“The funeral is two day away.” Blaine looked down. A tremor ran up his back. At night he woke in sweats and reached for a man who did not lie beside him. He wanted to hold him so much but could not. Seeing Kurt in that bed made him feel sick. 

Kurt glanced sideways at his husband. Though he beamed, worry etched lines about his eyes. Blaine came back from New York excited and so clingy. Something happened to him he refused to speak of. 

Like all funerals, tears openly flowed. Seven hundred people attended including many from the music world. All the original Glee Club members showed. Santana and Brittany brought their son. Mike arrived solo. Artie and a pregnant Tina arrived from South Africa where they now lived. Sam came alone carrying a picture of Finn. Jiu Chin having left him for a doctor. Quinn brought her husband Karl and two kids. Emma and Will brought their five children. Puckerman sent his regards in the form of a video. They would not give him a pass to leave the prison he presently resided in. Rachel, Jesse and their two kids stood close to the mourning family. Rachel sung a beautiful eulogy. Burt, Carole, Pam, Cooper and his gorgeous wife stood with Blaine, Kurt and their kids. Seated in a wheelchair, Kurt endured the pain. Blaine insisted on thick pillows but they did not help that much. Even Sue showed up with her daughter and a detachment of Secret Service Agents.

The victims of the bombings received full military honour guards by presidential decree. Blaine and Kurt knew this to be a publicity stunt. The press and political opposition crucified the president claiming his foreign policies had been the root cause of the attacks. In private Burt had nothing good to say about the gambit. He glanced at Sue ever so often during the burial noting the press respectfully hovering close by. When the ceremony broke up leaving the Jones family alone with their daughter, Sue addressed the press telling them how much Mercedes meant to her and sharing stories of her as student. The Glee members knew the truth and avoided the political gong show. 

Both men dreaded the interment. Kurt and Blaine felt it every time there flesh touched. Anxiousness surrounded both of them. It reminded Kurt of that place he had been. Hovering some polluted place between life and death, it felt weird and disjointed. On the other hand, Blaine’s heart felt utterly heavy. Mercedes has been a gentle soul regardless of her bravado. Seeing her lowered into the ground almost broke him. All throughout the memorial he could not keep his hands off his husband. Feeling Kurt’s skin and the heaving of his shoulders as he breathed meant everything. The other hand rested on Katherine leaning against his right leg. 

A little boy stood between his two fathers against the wheelchair. Kurt kept a hand on his son’s shoulder. Once in a while he glanced up at Blaine with apprehension in his blue eyes. He felt his husband’s fingers shaking against his flesh. Yes, the man cried but this went far deeper. He had been feeling it ever since he woke in the hospital. Perhaps suggesting Blaine go to New York had been a mistake. Upon his return, this thing he felt worsened. Afraid to broach the subject, Kurt worried. 

Everyone gathered at the Hummel’s afterward, save Sue. The Glee Club, a number of children and parents sat about in the living room shipping on drinks and quietly talking. Blaine sat on the edge of a side table next to his husband. Holding a mug of coffee in one hand, the other rested on Kurt’s shoulder. He stared into space with lost eyes. 

“That was beautiful, darling,” Jesse said to his wife. Rachel sat in a chair with a blanket over her shoulder breast feeding. Considering the number of children running about, no one seemed to care. 

“Singing, Mercedes would have loved it.” Artie sat next to the dining room table. One of Quinn’s kids sat on his lap. The child’s mother had wondered off to take clean up her other child. Her husband Karl went with her.

“Rachel, you haven’t lost your touch.” Will commented. He sat with his back to the chair Emma sat in. Their youngest child slept between his legs, her head resting on his thigh. Their other children played in the other kids in the dining room.

“We did not always see eye to eye, but music was her life.” Rachel looked down at the baby suckling her breast. “Anything else would have been a travesty.”

“Heart breaking, I would say,” Tina wiped her eye. She had been crying for most of the day. Being pregnant added to her emotional upheaval. Sitting in a plush care, she looked comfortable for the first time today. 

“Rachel, I tip my hat to you,” Kurt smiled at his school hood friend. 

“You losing your hair, Hummel?” Rachel shot back.

Standing in the foray, Burt ran his fingers over his head. “Give him a few more years.” 

Everyone laughed.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt looked to his husband. The weight of Blaine’s hand rested on his shoulder comforted. Every time he caught a glimpse of those wonderful hazel eyes, Kurt wanted that adorable man. His smell aroused him. The sight of that fuzzy hair made him want to sink himself so deep into his lover they would never come apart. Then sadness destroyed the fantasy leaving Kurt surrounded by bubbling apprehension. 

“Does anyone, want something to eat?” Carole ask as she slowly rose from one of the dining room chairs. She had been playing with Barbara and Katherine. 

“I’ll help.” Pam stood. Her eyes went to her son. She looked a bit concerned.

“Can I help?” Tina volunteered.

“Tina relax. You looked uncomfortable there for a while,” Emma replied with a warm smiled. An understanding mother pushed Will forward and raised to her feet. 

“Perhaps you are right.” Tina looked relieved.

“So many people,” Sam commented from the carpet. Alexander crawled over him.

“Mercedes touched many with her music and her whit,” Rachel commented. Her eyes went from Kurt to Blaine and back.

Kurt’s eyes followed hers. Blaine sat there sipping on a coffee. “You two argued enough.”

“I wanted her to learn to express herself?” Rachel adjusted the baby in her arms.

Giving Rachel a curious look, Mike commented, “Is that what you called it.”

“I encouraged you all.” Rachel smiled.

“Yeah, sometimes with the desire to slap you silly,’ Santana held Brittany’s hand. Their eight year old played with the other kids crowding around Sam. The long haired blond had a way with kids but could not keep a woman happy. 

Quinn and Karl walked back into the living room with their little girl between them. The girl looked much calmer than she had been twenty minutes ago. The pretty child suffered from mild Downs Syndrome. She had acted up during the funeral but it did not seem out of place considering the number of children who attended. For them, Princess Shasha had been buried.

Mike gave up his seat on the couch for Quinn how lifted her daughter to her knee. The dancer crossed his legs as he came to rest on the thick, colourful area rug. For the most part he did not say much. His life had not been easy. He married six years ago and lost his pregnant wife in a traffic accident. Like Kurt, burying Mercedes held sorry memories. 

Glancing about a room full of friends, Mike’s eyes fell upon Blaine. Kurt took note. Throughout the service his husband had barely said a word. In fact, he had said very little all day. He kissed Kurt when he arrived to pick him up from the hospital with the kids. Greeting his children, Kurt instantly knew Katherine and Alexander comprehended something felt out of place. Katherine bluntly asked Kurt why Daddy B pouted. The answer did not come easily but it had been quick. Kurt did not want to speak about it with Blaine in the room. Luckily he had wandered off to speak to the nursed about Kurt’s needs. 

Blaine’s melancholy remained the elephant in the room as people shared Mercedes stories. The afternoon dragged on and Blaine drifted further away. Seeing his husband like this pulled on the strength of the old Kurt before his rape. Fretting, Kurt looked up at his darling husband. “Honey?”

“Yes, dear.” Blaine’s voice could barely audible.

Pulling in a shaky breath, Kurt reached up taking Blaine’s hand. His husband’s skin felt cool. At that moment his heart pulled to the hard right. Tugging on that hand, Kurt’s brows furrowed.

Blaine weakly smiled.

“Blaine, can you please wheel me out to the back deck?” Kurt said loud enough for others to hear. Since daybreak, Kurt learned what Artie lived with. The man had his admiration. His injuries prevented him from walking long distances. Hopefully he would be able to dance again. 

Blaine just sat there. Mike rose from the floor where he had been talking with Jesse. Kurt held up his hand. Rachel gave ex-roommate an odd look. 

Kurt softly pleaded. “Blaine, please?” 

Putting his mug down, Blaine slowly rose. His eyes went to his children playing in the dining room. Sam, Will and Artie entertained the horde of little treasures with tales, games and playful song. Wrapping his fingers around the grips of the wheelchair, Blaine pushed his husband toward the kitchen. Pam, Emma and Carole looked up from the counter where they finished up the finger food for a light meal. Pam stepped away from the counter and Kurt shook his head. Altering her course, she went to the door and opened it. Worried, she watched the lovers move out to the edge of the terrace. A hand came to rest on her shoulder. Rachel stood beside her with little Kenneth in her other arm. The two exchanged glances.

“Blaine, pull up a chair,” Kurt asked. He glanced back to the glass door where two women watched. Burt stepped close to his wife and looked out into the backyard.

He tugged on a metal chair and Blaine slowly sat. Looking down, he drew in a huge breath and let it out slowly. 

Taking his husband’s hands, Kurt watched those lovely hazel eyes. They looked so dark and distant. “What is it, my love?”

Blinking, Blaine looked away and then slowly back. His hands shook. 

“You freezing,” Kurt’s voice revealed his fear. “Are you alright? Should we go to the hospital?”

Shaking his head, Blaine whispered, “No more hospitals.”

Kurt’s heart bleed, His husband looked so distraught. “Blaine?”

Bending forward, Blaine rested his forehead against the hands that held his. Drawing air into his lungs, he let out a trembling cry. 

Pulling one of his hand free, Kurt stroked his husband’s fluffy hair. Kurt felt pain in a manner he had never expected. Blaine had always been there for him even in their darkest times. Now he shut down leaving Kurt feeling helpless. “My love?”

The sobs continued for a few moments longer and then Blaine rolled his head to one side. Soft, red rimmed eyes stared up at his husband who bent closer to rest his head next on his. 

Running a hand over Blaine’s cheek, Kurt whispered, “You have not lost me and you never well.”

Blaine closed his eyes and his sobs increased.

“My love, I am here?” The tear rolling from Kurt’s eye and fell upon Blaine cheek. “Please tell me?”

“Mercedes.” Blaine sputtered on the word.

Swallowing hard, Kurt suddenly understood. Blaine lay there unable to aid those he loved except their son. The pain that resonated from him in the hospital still held. Emotion rose in his chest and Kurt began to cry. The place he had been did not compare to where Blaine’s mind took the upset man. Rape and guilt did not compare to seeing the gore and blood of loved ones spilled all over the sidewalk. Kurt felt awful. It had all been about him. His lovely husband had been forgotten. No wonder he clung on so hard. 

“Blaine, how can I help?” Kurt soothed. His heart crashed against his ribcage.

In a soft, compassionate tone, Blaine said, “Just hold me.” 

Kurt did just that.

Inside voices rose in song. Sam, Tina and Artie crooned the music Mercedes liked the most. The notes drifting out into the backyard did not help the way Blaine felt. Only Kurt’s touch, the smell of his skin and hair brought that sense of calm. The mixing of emotions stained the purity of the heart in ways Blaine struggled to comprehend.

The evening threatened to end not as an old man remembered. Agony reverberated within the folds of his memories causing pain to race into his extremities leaving old Blaine shivering. Something clutched a fragile heart. Crumbling emotion pushed his younger self away from reality. An old man wondered why?


	43. Returning Home

McKendry’s auditorium had changed. Walking down the aisle, Blaine glanced at the greatly enlarged balconies and the waffling of the baffled ceiling. New seats, carpeting and decorations made it look nostalgically out of step with Ohio. He felt as if he had walked into childhood house that someone else had renovated. He smiled for the sake of smiling. It felt good.

Slapping his hand on the back of the chairs as he slowly made his way to the stage he could see his young friends up there singing away. Some of the best days of his youth had been on that stage coupled by many hard moments. Lamenting of the pain of breaking up. The joy of coming back together again. This room reflected it all. On that very stage his life changed forever. The friends he made and then Kurt. Yes, that adorable geeky, over cleansed man he loved so much.

The silence seemed so surreal. The air conditioning system had not even kicked in yet. Why would it, the school would not unlock it doors for a few hours. After taking Kurt back to the hospital Blaine could not sleep. He sat on Kurt’s bed at the Hummel’s for the longest time staring at the treasures of his husband’s youth. The solitude moved him in ways he could not imagine. The two of them would share the room soon. The doctors had determined Kurt would be released this coming afternoon. The thought both pleased and frightened Blaine. Crying his soul out to his husband made him feel much better but the heaviness only seeped back in. Since the explosions everything felt off.

At three o’clock he slipped from the Hummel’s after leaving a note on the kitchen table. He did not want to scare then and knew they would call when the find it. Until then he needed this time for himself. For a little while his drove up and down the streets of Lima. When he ended up at the parking lot of the mall where Dalton had once stood, he sadly stared. If felt so wrong. How he actually ended up at McKinley he did not know. Years ago they snuck into the school through the old music room. Well, after all these years, the window still had not been fixed. The janitor made his rounds somewhere. From the moist floor outside the theatre doors, his moment there has passed. For the moment he felt secure in his trespassing.

Dimly lit by a few pods lights, the stage looked eerie. Walking along the wall, Blaine slowly climbed the stairs. Stopping in the center of the stage he turned and looked out at the darkened seats. For a moment the crowd clapped. West Side Story survived its opening night. For a young artist the evening had been very difficult. His mind wondered as a pained heart pounded in his chest. In this spot he found forgiveness. A little while later he happily rode the hard shaft of the boy he adored.

A light shown upon a wall just off stage. Walking over, he found the photo of Finn. It rested exactly where they had put it all those years ago. Standing there, Blaine stared at the Kurt’s brother by marriage. A twinge of discomfort pricked his heart. Kurt once admitted to have a crush on the teenager. Blaine honestly could not understand why. While Finn ended up to be a friend, they had not always gotten along. The man had a certain cuteness about him but in that way, he did nothing for Blaine. Rachel, on the other hand, still cried on the anniversary of his death. Jesse should be given a sainthood but the dear man adored Rachel perhaps as much as Blaine loved Kurt.

Lifting his right hand, Blaine pulled a finger down the glass covering the picture. He paused at the name. Shaking his head, he whispered, “Finn, your life ended too soon. You did not get to enjoy and watch the birth of your children. I do not know if you would have married Rachel, but she….we….all miss you.”

The finger fell and the haunting silence returned. Lowing his eyes, he pulled a photo from his pocket. A tear glistened in his eye as Blaine stared at Mercedes youthful face. He had found the wallet sized picture amongst Kurt’s things in his old bedroom. He did not mean to take it but the anguish he felt demanded it. He did not think Kurt would mind. But then, it did make him feel dirty.

“Mercedes, my dear friend, on this stage you shined. I would never say this to Rachel’s face, but you had the better voice.” Blaine smiled.

Stroking the picture, Blaine glanced up at Finn. “You deserve to be here as much as Finn and I do not think he would mind the company.”

Softly kissing the photo, a sorrowful man pushed it into the little crack at the edge of Finn’s plague. Fear touched him as his fingers lingered. “The two of you lived your lives to the fullest regardless of how short it ended up to be. You showed strength in everything you did.”

“Finn that hug the day Kurt left for New York. You surprised me with your words. Back then I had no idea what to think but now I sort of understand. Your heart was free Finn. You did the hardest thing anyone could. You let Rachel go. It killed you but you knew it had to be. I failed. I was weak. I gave into my base needs. Perhaps you would have but that was not your nature. You were strong. Always so strong.”

Blaine lowered his head and the silence returned. Sitting cross legged on the floor, he remained there loosing track of time. A door slamming behind him startled the young man. Lost in thought he felt groggy and light headed. Footfalls quickly approached from behind.

“Blaine?” A familiar voice called out.

“Mr. Schuester,” Blaine silently said as he pushed himself up from the floor.

“What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep. You know, you should really get that window into the old music room fixed.”

“I had trouble sleeping too.”

“I really do not know why I ended up here.”

“I see Finn is no longer alone.”

“Yes, I feels fitting. Mercedes found herself on this stage. We all did, thanks to you.”

“Thanks, but none of it would have happened if a bunch of kids did not push an aging crooner from the past he wished to relive.”

“I don’t think any of us will argue.”

“This stage saw so much.” Will walked out onto the stage. “All the kids that have crossed it but the bunch you belonged to pulls on my heart the most.”

Blaine silently watched.

Will’s arms went out wide. “I watched you all grow up here. You became brave men and women ready to face the world. Look where you are Blaine. Broadway and New York with the man you were destined to be with.”

The word ‘destined’ caused a shiver to run up Blaine’s back. He muttered, “And I just feel so lucky that I found you so soon in this lifetime, because all I want to do, all I’ve ever wanted to do, is spend my life loving you.”

The ripple passing through his heart startled Blaine. Tingling down his arm to the tips of his fingers, for a second the pain in his shoulder spiked. Healing nicely, it felt as if the flesh has just been opened up again. Something fast and hard smashed into him. His legs faltered and he became wet up to the chest. Grasping onto to something wooden and hand gripped his. Hazel eyes went that way. Though he could not see those dreamy blue eyes he felt them in his soul. Everything they had shared came into focus and then spiraled away.

“What’s that Blaine?” Will glanced at his old student with a curious look.

Blinking, the pain in Blaine’s shoulder faded away loving warmth. Lifting his voice, Blaine proudly repeated, “And I just feel so lucky that I found you so soon in this lifetime, because all I want to do, all I’ve ever wanted to do, is spend my life loving you.”

“You said that to Kurt when you asked him to marry you.” Schuester stepped closer.

“Yes, I did.” Blaine smiled. ‘Yes, I did.”

That afternoon, Blaine arrived at the hospital. Kissing his husband on the cheek Kurt caught that look. Taking the long way home, he stopped in the park they knew from their teenage years. Together, they sat there watching the river in the distance holding hand. Thumbs rubbing against one another, the silence, while deafening at times, it soothed.

After lying in a bed for some many days, Kurt squirmed in the passenger seat. Staring at his husband, he said, “Can we please get out and go for a walk.”

Sighing, Blaine looked down at the steering wheel.

“Blaine?” Kurt’s brows pushed together. “I want to go to our rock.”

Another sigh.

“Blaine?” Kurt’s heart fell. Looking up the ceiling he shook his head. “Blaine, please, I thought we had worked through this.

No response.

“Please, say something.”

Opening the door, Blaine pulled himself out of the car. Stomping around to the other side he pulled Kurt’s open. A hand flopped down in front of Kurt in the most haphazard way.

Staring at the hand, Kurt got suddenly angry. “For Christ’s sake Blaine, if you are going to be like this, you can just take me home.”

Slamming the door, a few seconds later, Blaine flopped into the driver’s seat. The engine reeved up and without a word he drove on.

“Blaine?” The car thumped over a speed bump. Ripples of pain rolled up Kurt’s back. “Oh, let just forget it. I don’t know…fuck!”

Kurt glared out the window as the trees faded way into a shopping district. They talked before the nurse came along to flush Blaine from the hospital. When he lift, the kiss had been so passionate. The light in his eyes had returned and he bobbed the head of gelled hair back and forth. What the hell had happened?

Pulling into the Hummel driveway, Kurt had the door open before the car had gotten to a full stop. Hauling himself up, Kurt paused and glanced back at his husband. Frowning, he let out a long sigh. They had not said a word in almost twenty minutes. Blaine just drove on lost in a dangerous haze. It surprised Kurt they made it in one piece.

Blowing out a long puff of air, Kurt’s pulled his lips in. In a soft, caring tone he pleaded, “Blaine?”

He stood there for a long few seconds and response Kurt received consisted of Blaine turning off the car. Rolling his eyes, Kurt, turned and lumbered up the walk to the front door. Stopping on the stoop he sighed. Glancing back at his husband, a frown marred his handsome face. Blaine slowly pulled himself from the car. He hated this. Pulling his lip in, Kurt’s heart sank. Glancing that way and that, he regretted his thoughts.

Shuffling back toward Blaine, Kurt paused to allow the man to finishes the last few steps toward him. Blaine had that blank look in his eyes. Inching closer, Kurt slowly wrapped his arms about his husband. At first Blaine did not react and then his arms slowly came up into a firm embrace. Blaine let out a heavy breath.

“You alright, my love?” Kurt whispered.

Silence for a moment. “I’m sorry. I…just feel…lost…heavy.”

Kurt pulled his husband tighter. “Ah, Blaine.”

“Boys, not on the front law,” Burt’s voice interrupted.

Releasing his husband, Kurt’s left hand effortless slipped into is husband’s right. Spinning around a son’s eyes fell upon his father standing in the door. Hands on his hips, he shook his head and then turned back into the house leaving the door open. Rolling his eyes, Kurt tugged Blaine and together they walked up to the threshold. Without letting go of his husband’s hand, Blaine allowed Kurt to enter first.

Barely a foot into the door, the word ‘SURPRISE’ roared out from the living room followed by the high pitched voices of kids released from their silence. Kurt’s right hand pressed against his chest and then he turned to his husband. Hard eyes bore down upon Blaine in the most unforgiving manner. His head going to one side, Blaine smiled one of those indulgent smiles that made Kurt melt.

“Damn it, Blaine.” Rolling his head, Kurt slapped his lover across the chest and then drew him into a hug.

“Got’cha,” Blaine beamed as he reciprocated. Holding it together had been harder than he thought. Acting on stage before a hostile audience would have been easier.

Children gathered about their legs. Kate and Alex pressed in against their fathers with Barbara close behind. Rachel stood in the background with a huge smile on her face clapping her hand in front of her face. Jesse stood next to her with Kenneth in his arms. Santana wrapped an arm about Brittany. Their son, Marcus, stood in front of them. He looked a little out of place. Standing next to Artie, Tina held a hand against her back as if it helped with the discomfort. She had seven weeks to go. Sam stood beside Pam and Burt in the hall happily grinning.

Shaking his head, Kurt glared pointed a finger at his husband. “You…”

Kissing his husband quickly on the lips, Blaine let him go without saying a word.

Eyes still on Blaine, Kurt slowly crouched down so he could hug his children. Squeezing them close, he said to Blaine, “I’ll get you back for this.”

“I certainly hope so.” Blaine ruffled Kurt’s hair. He hated that.

“You could have warned me?” Kurt kissed all three kids.

Wearing mechanic chic, Burt teased. “You, Mr. I Guessed My Wedding Proposal, missed something?”

Blushing, Kurt admitted. “Okay, you got me. Surprise, whoopee!”

“Come on sourpuss. Come over here and share that love.” Rachel held her arms out to her friend.

Slowly and with a certain measure of pain, Kurt rose to his feet. Marching over to Rachel he threw his arms about her. “I bet this is all your fault.”

Returning the embrace, Rachel winked at Blaine in the doorway surrounded by kids and Sam. “You can take it out on Blaine later. This was all his idea.”

Pam walked up and wrapped her son in her arms. Burt patted his son-in-law on the shoulder while nodding his head. Silent words passed between the three of them. Sam bend down making faces at the kids who laughed in response.

Kurt whispered to Rachel. “Oh, when I get him alone.”

“I think that is what he has in mind.” She kissed her friend on the cheek.

“Don’t squeeze the life out of him Rachel.” Carole tapped her on the shoulder. Then she shrugged and then just enveloped both of them in her arms. “Welcome home, my boy.”

A tear welling up in his eye, Kurt’s face reddened. “Gee, thanks mom.”

“Right, stop being a hog and let me have a turn.” Burt stood behind his son.

Two women hesitated and the pulled away with big smiles. With no fanfare. Burt drew his son into a deep, loving embrace. The look in Kurt’s face told a story Blaine had no hope in compete with. Envious of the relationship son and father shared, he sometime wished his dad had not been such a dick. Over the years Burt’s wisdom and offhand manner of showing his love moved his son-in-law in so many ways. He just innately understood and had the right words. He loved the man to death.

Dressed in less than flattering clothes, Kurt endured a few jokes as the party swung into high gear. Complaining, no one would let him go upstairs and change. They all knew what that meant – an hour of boredom while Kurt went through his regiment. Little had changed over the years other than Blaine sort of joined in. He took a third of the time.

Will, Emma and their clan showed up about twenty minutes later. Burt barbecued as everyone gathered to watch a mass of kids playing in the back yard. Blaine did not leave Kurt’s side except when Katherine fell. Running to her side he picked up with a big hug and kissed her on the forehead. The little girl shrugged and began to run around again as if nothing had happened. Rachel ribbed Blaine about being such a mother hen.

One husband brought the other husband his meal and fruit juice. Kurt would have preferred wine but Blaine ruled that out. He still had to take drugs. As the evening rolled on Kurt began to wane. Regardless of his own discomfort, Blaine insisted in helping Kurt upstairs. With the party still going on downstairs, they discovered a wonderful fringe - they cuddled up together and peacefully sleep.

The following morning Burt and Carole took the kids off their hands so the boys could have a day to themselves. Blaine cooked while his husband snoozed a little longer. Whistling as he entered the bedroom carrying a tray complete with roses and candles, Kurt stirred. Staring, the handsome man smiled as Blaine put the tray down beside the bed. Sitting beside the bed the two talked quietly about nothing in particular. For the first time since the explosions there seemed to be no rush or agenda.

Returning after taking the tray down stairs, Blaine stopped in the threshold. His handsome husband lounged on the bed braced by a mound of pillows reading the latest news from New York. Gingerly, Blaine sat on the edge of the bed. Leaning closer as if seeking as kiss, he suddenly made a face and wiggled his nose.

“What?” Kurt’s right eyebrow shot up.

One side of his face pulling up into a grin, Blaine asked, “When was the last time you had a real bath?”

“Do I stink?”

“Let’s just say, you have that medical smell about you.”

“Oh, I guess that means I am squeaky clean.”

Blaine gave his husband an odd look, got up and left the room.

Eyes following, Kurt began to wonder. Now what? Throwing his head back in on the pillow he rolled his eyes. How he loved the man but at times, he infuriated. The past few days had been such a roller coaster. Up, down, sideways, loud, quiet, it all started to get to him.

A few moments Blaine returned with a large ceramic bowl filled with warm water, a couple of sponges, small bottles in a plastic bag and three large towels over his arm.

Kurt gave his husband a reserved look. “What are you up to?”

Ignoring his husband, Blaine put the bowl down the side table. Picking up one of the small bottles from the bag he twisted off the top and sniffed it. Shaking his head he repeated the procedure until he finally smiled. Pouring it into the water he swished it around. The heat released the ambrosia.

“You’re not going to bathe me?” Kurt’s face scrunched up.

The fuzzy haired man said nothing. Reaching over he started to unbutton Kurt’s pajama top.

“Blaine?” Kurt pulled back but winced with the pain. He tried to push his husband away.

“Oh, just sit there and enjoy.” Blaine carefully took his husband’s shirt off. He leaned in as if seeking a kiss and then pulled away at the last moment much to Kurt’s consternation.

“Blaine? This is…weird.”

“Shush and let a man play out a fantasy.”

Kurt’s eyebrows went up. Blaine stared back with those adorable puppy eyes. Gods they drove him to distraction producing an over powering need to forgive. Then he got to the underwear Kurt became amazingly shy. Ten year ago they slept together wearing some level of clothing. Now, their birthday suits sufficed.

Sliding two towels his husband, with great care Blaine gave the adoring man a long, sensuous sponge bath followed by a rub down with essential oils. Working around the bandages and a large, inflated obstruction that seemed to have a mind of its own. Blaine happily hummed to himself. Shooing Kurt’s hand away from him, he did not allow his husband to lift finger. In the end, Kurt just accepted and leaned back to enjoy.

Massaging Kurt’s sensitive feet, Blaine smiled evilly as his husband squirmed. Suddenly Blaine pulled away and started softly began to sing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yr1p7BvCQ0U&list=RDyr1p7BvCQ0U#t=12

_You think I'm pretty without any make-up on_  
_You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong_  
_I know you get me, so I let my walls come down, down_

Kurt sudden beamed. His mind flashed to Dalton that unforgettable day the first met.

_Before you met me, I was alright_  
_But things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life_  
_Now every February you'll be my valentine, valentine_

Dancing away from the bed, Blaine tugged at his bowtie ripping it from about his neck. Swinging it around his head, he tossed it at his naked husband. Kurt blinked.

_Let's go all the way tonight_  
_No regrets, just love_  
_We can dance until we die_  
_You and I, we'll be young forever_

One by one, Blaine undid the buttons down not from the neck of his polo shirt. Strutting about he pulled at cloth tucked into his pants while rotating his pelvis in a seductive manner. Kurt’s eyes went wide.

_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream_  
_The way you turn me on, I can't sleep_  
_Let's runaway and don't ever look back_  
_Don't ever look back_

The shirt came up playful as Blaine tightened stomach muscles showing them off beneath moving fabric. The shirt came up on the right revealing as Blaine pulled his arm through the sleeve. Pain shot up his back but he did not care. The purple scab on his shoulder revealed the punishment he suffer. Blaine showed it off as if were some badge of honour.

My heart stops when you look at me  
Just one touch, now baby I believe  
This is real, so take a chance  
And don't ever look back, don't ever look back

The words came from so deep within his husband Kurt felt emotion welling up deep in his throat.

_We drove to Cali and got drunk on the beach_  
_Got a motel and built a fort out of sheets_  
_I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece_  
_I'm complete_

The shirt pulled at wisps of coiled hair as it passed over the head. Whipping it around Blaine thrust if down between his legs and rocked himself back and forth. On the bed, Kurt began to clap with the beat.

_Let's go all the way tonight_  
_No regrets, just love_  
_We can dance until we die_  
_You and I, we'll be young forever_

One sock and then another. Blaine threw them at his husband. They fell short. Kurt laughed.

_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream_  
_The way you turn me on, I can't sleep_  
_Let's runaway and don't ever look back_  
_Don't ever look back_

A button popped and then the slow, tantalizing play with this zipper. Hips swayed as Blaine teased.

_My heart stops when you look at me_  
_Just one touch, now baby I believe_  
_This is real, so take a chance_  
_And don't ever look back, don't ever look back_

Reaching for his knees as if he were about to rip the pants from his body, Blaine swirled about poking his ass out at his husband. Dancing backward toward the bed, he rubbed the fabric covering his glory hole against Kurt’s toes.

_I'm a get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans_  
_Be your teenage dream tonight_  
_Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans_  
_Be your teenage dream tonight_

Then they fell. Dark blue underwear stared Kurt in the face. That ass moved around in circles and then Blaine embarrassingly hopped around as he fought with the right leg. Heaving it off, he twirled his trousers around before tossing them to one side.

_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream_  
_The way you turn me on, I can't sleep_  
_Let's runaway and don't ever look back_  
_Don't ever look back_

Toying with the edge of his form fitting Aussie rower shorts, fingers played over and down the crack of his ass. Two hands messaged firm buns and the thick shaft pressing against the elastic fabric.

_My heart stops when you look at me_  
_Just one touch, now baby I believe_  
_This is real, so take a chance_  
_And don't ever look back, don't ever look back_

Taking up the bottle of mineral oil, Blaine rubbed it over body in the most sensual manner making is shiny in the dim light. Pressing his liquid soaked hands down into the last stitch of cloths he wore, he lubricating his bulging erection and other hidden parts of his body.

_I'm a get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans_  
_Be your teenage dream tonight_  
_Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans_  
_Be your teenage dream tonight_

Suddenly the shorts tore at the seams as Blaine ripped them from his engorged cock flopping about. Blaine rotated his hips so that the joy of Kurt’s most loving dreams, twirled in front his husband. Repeating the last lines of the song, Blaine danced about waving his torn undergarments in the air. Suddenly he threw them to his smiling husband.

“My god!” Kurt caught the underwear and pressed it to his nose. The combination of his husband’s musk and the lavender made his heart flutter.

“Oh, know, you haven’t seen my god, yet.” Blaine beamed as he crawled up onto the bed.

With care, Blaine took his husband’s semi-hard cock in his mouth and began to play. With all the skill of a seasoned professional, his tongue rolled over the head and down to the balls. Keeping himself balanced so that he did not put excess weight on Kurt, he played that fine instrument in the most sensually erotic manner. The receiver laid his head back as his legs slowly spread. Ignoring the pain dispersing up his back, Kurt felt warm all over. What a wonderful surprise and….well…wow…Kurt could not believe what he felt. More than physical, he sensed great relief.

A finger found the spot of his husband’s inexhaustible desire. Lightly tickling a willing hole between oiled cheeks, Blaine playfully tormented. Moaning, his head rolling on the pillow, a hand reached down lightly gripping that wonderful fluff of hair. A lash here and a long pull there made Kurt yearn for something greater and deeper.

After Blaine swallowed all his husband had to offer, he glanced up the length of Kurt’s slick body at his panting husband. Before Kurt could say anything his husband said in a low, sexy voice, “My darling Kurt, I have almost lost you twice now in as many years. First to my wounded ego and then to some lunatic with an overactive sense of adventure. Watching you in the hospital, I knew I could never live without you. You are my sun and I am the Earth. I am the clouds and you’re the rain bringing life. I am yours Kurt with all my heart. The day our eyes met on those stairs, you stole it and you have been lovingly carrying it all these years. I admit I am prideful and stubborn but I am so in love that nothing matters but you. I am hopelessly yours, forever.”


	44. OSCAR

Who would know him? The thought rolled around in his mind as he stepped out of the back of a classic Rolls Royce to the cheers of the crowd. Holding his hand out to his husband, Blaine smiled. Two OSCAR nominations for his first film. One of them he would be singing live on stage and the other would be the background music at some point. Rachel had been frantic when they made the announcement. Within minutes the phone rang off the hook as family and friends called. Blaine barely believed it even after he received the official notification. The film had already won three Golden Globes, of which Blaine had been nominated for none.

Kurt took his husband’s hand. In his eyes Blaine looked handsome beyond measure. His great mane of fuzzy hair had been tamed with just enough so it would not fly everywhere. Kurt had arranged it all - messages, facials and the whole nine yards. Blaine could not blame him. The event terrified him.

Stepping out of the car Kurt looked about nervously. Taking a few steps, he suddenly leaned forward and kissed Blaine on the cheek. The moment became part of the public record in so many ways. Holding hands, the two men walked the red carpet saying words of encouragement to each other. Wearing formal, early nineteen hundreds white tie and tails they stood out amongst the crowd in modern fair. Blaine wanted this and Kurt willingly went along.

Stopping to pose for the press, Blaine would not be parted from Kurt. Even as the cameras flashed, he held his husband’s soft hand. Fingers gently rubbed one another. The warmth made him feel comfortable when a reporter approached with a cameraman in tow asking questions about the movie.

The evening went as expected. The beautiful people arrived. Neither Blaine nor Kurt considered themselves to be of that caliber. At some point Blaine regrettably excused himself so he could slip back stage to prepare to sing his nominated song. The set resembled the scene from the movie it related to. Seated before a pure white piano, he sang unaccompanied to great applause. Emotion filled his voice as the tones rose and fell. Watching, his hands cupped over his face, Kurt found it hard not to sniffle. The song belonged to him.

The movie theme played several times that night as they went through the categories. Blaine’s voice filled the auditorium for few brief seconds again when they flashed the nominees for original song. Blaine held his breath. Kurt held his husband’s hand in both of his. The envelope tore and a famous actor read a several names. Kurt deflated and then began to clap. A few rows ahead and to the left, a bunch of people rose and hugged. Three men and two women walked up to the stage to collect their awards. Kurt gave his husband a sad look. Blaine just smiled and leaned into the man he loved kissing the back of his hand.

Best score came up next. One of Hollywood’s most important composers and a beautiful, young actress made the announcements. With each name, Blaine found himself fighting nagging doubt. He went up against the best in the business. Something told him he would not win. The splitting of the golden envelope seemed to take forever and then his name echoed out over the speakers. Sitting there in stunned silence, Blaine endured his loving husband smoothing him in a huge hug. In New York and Lima, friends and family would be jumping up and down.

Slowly rising to his feet, Blaine received a kiss from Kurt and hug from Ang. The movie won its second award for the night. Only best director, best actress in a lead role and best picture remained.

Slapped on the back by those about him, Blaine slowly walked to the end of the aisle to the applause of everyone in the theater. The moment he felt the coolness of the OSCAR in his hands, everything became real. Standing there staring at the audience he said nothing for a short few seconds. Clearing his throat he began. “I…well…what a…surprise. I never thought anything like this would happen. Oh…where to…start. I would like to thank Ang for taking a chance on an unknown newbie and for Humphrey who is the world’s greatest sound editor. To Twenty Century Fox for making the dream come true. Most of all, I want to thank my adorable husband, Kurt, for all his support, love and the inspiration to write music.”

From the audience Kurt blew his husband a kiss. Without thinking, Blaine returned the gesture. Kurt pressed his hands to his face as if he caught it.

Beaming, Blaine finished. “Last, I would like to say never give up. The dream is always within reach. Stand tall and be yourself.”

Back stage, Blaine jumped about as if he were fourteen again. He wished Kurt had been there to enjoy his little dance. Gathering with the other award winners, nominees and presenters, everyone congratulated Blaine on his first win. A little while later Ang joined him holding the OSCAR for best director. Director and song writer hugged. Ang dragged Blaine back out on stage when they announced they had also won best picture. Standing in the back, Blaine gazed at Kurt. After the show ended and people stared to leave, Blaine finally got his kiss and hug.

When they got home, Blaine and Kurt turned off the phones, ignored the door and pretended life had not changed. Well, they tried. Kurt pampered his award winning husband with champagne and an impressive dinner for the entire family. Kate and Alex even made a special desert. The following morning, the Anderson-Hummel clan curled on the bed for a slow start of a perfect day.

Prior to his winning attendance levels at My Fair Fellow started to diminish. After the win, tickets quickly sold out. Blaine received offers from talk shows, to write wedding music and even a proposal to record an album. His career took off and Kurt’s along with it. Ang kept his promise and Blaine wrote the music for his next movie. Both of them ended up with supporting actor’s roles which allowed them to sing.

Not everything turned out for the best though. During a celebration of the twins eighth birthday at the Hummel’s, Daniel showed up. Blaine’s father did not look too good and he tried to make the afternoon work. However, he got into a fight with Pam. Raising his voice he blurt out facts about Blaine birth calling the woman a whore. Modified, Pam fled. Enraged, Blaine smashed his fist into Daniel’s face and then chased after his mother.

A couple of years later, Burt collapsed on the floor of the House of Representative during a heated debate. His death sent Kurt into hysterics. The heart broken man proved strong for his mom at the funeral where he gave a heart wrenching eulogy. Shortly thereafter, Carole and Sue got into a huge argument over her husband’s vacant seat. Out of spite, Carole picked up where Burt had left off. Burt’s funeral proved to be a warning sign of things to come. Blaine outlived them all.

On Blaine’s fiftieth birthday, the two lovers took a walk on the huge wall that had grown up along the New York water front. Looking down at the grass and trees of Battery Park it seemed surreal. On the other side the water lapped against it as the six yard mark of the ten yard tall wall. Billions of tones of melting ice pushed the sea level up forcing hard and unpopular measures on most of the world governments. The Dutch started it in two thousand and thirty when they began to rebuild their defenses against the sea. Behind the existing seawall, they dug deep to the bed rock setting the foundations for a wall that would be two hundred yards wide at ground level and rising up on a slight angle fifteen yards above the current sea level. Designed to be added on if the need arose, they coated the seaward side of the wall with harden plastic that they heated to a seamless seal. Locks kept the ports of Rotterdam and Amsterdam open while the rest shut down. Huge pumping stations designed to match the flow of the Rhine at its peak lifted the mass of water. Passing back down through turbines, it produced hydroelectric power.

The children grew, went to university, fell in and out of love and strived to become their true selves. Their parents advised but allowed their children to learn the lessons many did not teach them. Both married and had children which pleased their aging parents to no end. Alex had the hardest life. Picked on in school as their parents had been, the struggle pulled him away from his sister who ended up moving to London. In time, the bitterness healed and the kids revived a love only twins would understand.

Alex moved in with his boyfriend in his second year of university. Kate waited until she had her first degree. When she departed, the three bedroom and den condominium felt empty and large. Having upgraded when the kids reached the age of ten, Blaine and Kurt downsized. They moved into one of the new, flood ready buildings overlooking Battery Park. They talked about moving inland but they loved the city. During the years of barrier’s construction when the population realized the truth, New York lost thirty percent of its population. Not alone, many coastal cities suffered. Massive movement of people inland created huge problems and opportunities. People living on the water had to be displaced and building torn down. After a dozen years New York looked completely different. It looked like something out of a science fiction movie.

Adjusting to the lack of mayhem took a while but the boys made the best of it. Playful mornings followed by office work and then another night on the stage. Rediscovering their love they traveled the world and reunited with old friends. As the years stretched, life slowed down and became an easy, loving flow. Other than Blaine’s battle with cancer in their seventies, all the trials of the past faded into memory.

Staring up at his departed love, Blaine found it hard to believe they had survived their twenties and early thirties. Thinking of those years, he could not stop himself from grinning. His charming husband kept him laughing, smiling and loving for seven decades. Time made their passions stronger and very stable. At eighty they still held hands. In their nineties they found the time and energy to have old people sex…in a fashion. Family and friends moved in and about them brightening their days. They made their real mark in life by leading the charge to have Broadway declared a world heritage site saving the district from massive restructuring. Their names would not be a mere footnote in history.

The fingers of Blaine’s right hand wrapped around the left of a man who filled his life with such joy. Turning it over, he gently kissed cooling skin. He paused and listened. The rain pounded on the windows caught his attention. In the winter it replaced the snow that had not fallen on the city for almost forty years. Still, he could see the flakes floating down within his mind. Memories of adjacent rooftops, as seen from their roof top deck, echoed within the dim a closed door created. Illumination touched the fluttering whitness making them glisten like stars. A door opened revealing light of such purity an angel would not dare pass through. A single translucent figure did.

A flake drifted down to fall on the spectral forms nose. An old man’s wrinkles pulled back becoming youthful skin. Slowly looking about, the hazy image of Blaine began to sing. The words drifted out into the place between time, reality and the nothingness of the everlasting void. It resonated threw the heavens filling sorrow with over powering joy and the most profound sense of love. His strong voice rose to the brilliance of the heavens.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2xN1oUiGoQ)

 _Never knew, I could feel like this_  
_I've never seen the sky before_  
_Want to vanish inside your kiss_

Snow and stars swirled and passed through a youthful Blaine as if he had no substance. The acceptance filling his heart played around him like an orchestra.

 _Seasons may change_  
_Winter to spring_  
_But I love you_  
_Until the end of time_

 _Come what may_  
_Come what may_  
_I will love you_  
_Until my dying day_

Another transparent apparition steps out from the façade made by simple thoughts. Perfection in a black tuxedo, angelic tones joined with Blaine creating a heavenly harmony.

 _Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place_  
_Suddenly moves with such a perfect grace_  
_Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste_  
_It all revolves around you_

Walking over to Blaine, this soul circled and then they touched. Sentiment beyond meaning erupted the moment ethereal flesh meet. The misty form then took on the shape of the man Blaine loved so much.

 _And there's no mountain too high, no river too wide_  
_Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side_  
_Storm clouds may gather_  
_And stars may collide_

Kurt caught the four words…

_But I love you_

…vibrating them out into the cosmos spiraling about them. The foundation of reality drifted apart revealing bright white light.

Blaine came back…

_I love you_

…and the passion within his heart sent waves which drew the brilliance to him. Their voices overlapped on the phrases and then they came together.

 _Until the end of time_  
_Until the end of time_

Iridescent light coalescing around the two of them. Reflecting the emotions the men shared, the cosmos seemed to hold its breath.

 _Come what may_  
_Come what may_

Physical bodies came together as an old man gripped an equally aged man. Yet, in this timeless place youth hugged. Enduring cravings pronounced the final outcome of a long and fruitful life.

 _I will love you_  
_I will love you_

Peaceful, soothing affection surrounded them as their heads came to rest on each other’s shoulder. The transient nature of their mortal forms twisted together. Effervescent light engulfed them both and as one, the accented into the heavens. Sated, an old man smiled his last smile.


End file.
